Robb Stark, The Protector of the Realm
by RobbStark2002
Summary: Features a smarter, stronger and a more politically astitute Robb Stark on his conquest of Westeros. Jon Snow never joins the Night's Watch and follows Robb on his march South. Starts where Robb is encamped in Moat Cailin and Catelyn comes to see him. Rated M for Strong Language, Adult Themes and Graphic Sexual Scenes. Previously titled Robb Stark, The King In The North.
1. The First Howl

_**Robb Stark**_

Robb Stark was briefing his bannerman on his attack strategy against the Lannisters when his mother entered the room. She was escorted by two fat men, a tall powerful knight and a man that looked suspicously like a cleanshaven Rodrik Cassel.

"Mother" he greeted her cooly, while placing a kiss on her hand.

"My Lady" The bannermen bowed courteously.

"My Lords" She replied in her icy tone, turning to introduce her escorts "The two brothers here are Ser Wylis and Ser Wendel Manderly, You already know Ser Rodrik. This is my uncle Ser Brynden Tully, the Knight of the Gate."

"Ser Brynden, tales of your courageos exploits are told around the North" Robb said with a smile. He then turned to his mother, "Will the Knights of the Vale be joining us, mother?"

"Ser Brynden will be the only Knight from the Vale joining us. Lysa Arryn wants to keep the power of the Vale near her sickly son, fearing for his life."

"Did you bring the Imp, my lady" Robett Glover asked.

"I'm afraid not, good ser. My fool of a sister managed to botch everything she touches."

 _A shame_ , Robb thought. _He would have been useful to get Father, Sansa and Arya back._

"Now if my lords will excuse me, I would like to speak to my son alone"

All the lords bowed down and left the hall one by one.

"You marched south." Catelyn said furiously when they were alone. Robb was astonished at the tone of her voice.

"Yes, mother. My father and sisters are held captive at King's Landing. What would you have me do?" Robb asked incredously.

"Stay at Winterfell. Any one of these bannermen could lead the army. These men aren't going to follow a boy into battle"

"Boy or not, I am a Stark of Winterfell. The blood of the First Men flows through my veins. We do not let other men do our killing." Robb was fuming at his mother. She wouldn't dare insult him especially after all the effort he put into getting his bannermen to respect him.

"Your brought the bastard as well?"

"His name is Jon" Robb said venomously.

"Your own brothers need you. Bran and Ri-"

"My brothers need their mother. I have half a mind to send you to Winterfell."

"You wouldn't dare-"

"Even if I wanted to I couldn't. This arrived for you at Winterfell." He handed her a scroll.

"Royal Seal," She murmured while opening it. Her eyes widened as she read it.

"Seven Hells."She exclaimed, "This is in Sansa's hand."

"Aye, It maybe Sansa's hand but it is the Queen's words."

" _Come to King's Landing and swear fealty to Joffrey Baratheon, First Of His Name or Father dies._ Who does this Joffrey think he is?" Catelyn asked shocked.

"A mummer's farce. Cersei Lannister truly rules in King's Landing now that King Robert is dead." Robb declared.

"What else?" Catelyn asked looking at the expression on Robb's face.

"There is more dire news. The Kingslayer is in the Riverlands. He defeated Ser Edmure at The Golden Tooth."

"My brother?" his mother asked weakly.

"Taken Captive. Stone Hedge was torched as well. Riverrun is currently being besieged by Ser Jaime. Lord Tytos Blackwood holds out in there with a weak garrison."

"What do we do?" His mother's age was beginning to show. She had worry lines all over her face.

"We Fight" Robb declared solemnly.

Robb reconvened the war council as soon as his mother and the newcomers were comfortable.

"We have reports that Lord Tywin is bringing another host into the riverlands around the south. It is confirmed to be larger than the Kingslayer's." Helman Tallhart announced to murmurs and mutterings in the council.

"One army or two, what of it? We will water the Riverlands with their blood." Jon Umber declared hotly. Many cheers went up.

"We must engage Lord Tywin's host on broken ground to put his knights at a disadvantage." Ser Rodrik suggested.

"NO" The Greatjon bellowed. "We must break the siege of Riverrun. Do that and the riverlords will join us."

"To do either, we must cross the river and the only crossing is at the Twins" Jon Snow pointed out, earning a hateful glare from Lady Catelyn.

"Held by Walder Frey. Your father's bannermen." Theon Greyjoy added, looking at Lady Catelyn.

"The Late Lord Frey, my father calls him" Catelyn said with contempt, "Some men take their oaths more seriously than others."

"Lord Frey has called his banners." Galbart Glover added, " Four thousand men sit within the Twins."

 _The bastard_ , Robb thought.

"Lord Walder's second son is married to a Lannister." Jon Snow said.

"What of it?" Catelyn asked venomusly at Jon, "Lord Walder's brood is married to almost every family in Westoros."

"But if we march south, we leave the North vulnerable to the Greyjoys." Jon pointed out.

"You are advising us to abandon Lord Stark, Sansa and Arya just to keep some land?" LadY Catelyn asked incredously.

"Lord Jon Umber," Robb commanded, ignoring his half-brother and mother's squabble "You will depart at once. Take an advance party of two thousand men and start beseiging the Twins. Make sure that no raven or rider leaves the Twins. Ser Wendel, you will remain in the North with another thousand men. If the Greyjoys attack, bleed them for every ounce of snow they take."

"It shall be done, my lord" Ser Wendel said.

"Everyone other than Lord Jon and Ser Wendel will depart at first light on the morrow." And with that Robb concluded the War council.

Soon only Robb and his mother remained in his chambers.

"What do you plan on doing?" She asked him.

"I'm going to split the army in two. The infantry will engage Tywin while the cavalry breaks the Siege of Riverrun."

"And?"

"Robett Glover will command the infantry."

"Why Glover and not Roose Bolton? Lord Bolton is known for his cunning."

"Which is exactly why I am not giving him command. Did you notice that he did nothing in the war council except stare at me? I'd like to keep a close eye on Lord Bolton.

"What about the cavalry?"

"I will command it myself" He said solemnly.

"The Kingslayer is one of the best swordsman in the Seven kingdoms." His mother said concerned.

"For now." Robb said with a smile.

 **A/N: Many of you guys have been requesting me to write a plot based story so I have decided to start this new series. Shoutout to Scoob96 for giving me the idea for this series. Also If you guys have any other ideas you want me to add into the plot of the series, please feel free to drop a PM about it. Please fav and follow this fanfic if you enjoy it as much as I am.**


	2. The Stag And The Rose

_**Magaery Tyrell**_

Margaery was very nervous. Today was the day she was getting married. She always looked forward to this moment, dreaming of some dark handsome knight who would love her all the way to hell. Little did she expect that she was going to marry a King.

Margaery was dressed in a gown of Ivory silk. She wore a maiden cloak embroidered with the roses that were her family sigil. Her father escorted her upto the the sept at Highgarden. It is there that she saw her groom.

Renly Baratheon was a tall man with black hair falling to his shoulders. He had a pleasant smile and a handsome face. He wore enameled green armor with the crowned stag carved into his chest. Her father, Mace Tyrell considered him to look like a younger, less muscular version of the deceased Robert Baratheon. Not all the Tyrells loved him though. Her grandmother Olenna despised the 'pretty stag'.

Septon Mulwin stood behind Renly. When Margaery got there her father removed her maiden cloak and Renly draped a cloak with the Baratheon stag onto her.

"You may say the words." Septon Mulwin said.

"With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lord and husband" Margaery said shyly.

"With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife" Renly said simultaneously.

Renly leaned down to kiss her. She felt tiny sparks all over her body when his cool lip brushed her's. His mint breath rubbed against her cheek. A burning sensation awoke between her legs.

Renly turned back to the crowd and raised their joined hands to cheers from the crowd.

The wedding feast at the hall was a blur to Margaery as she only thought of what was to come. Her grandmother told her that the first time would be wonderful and she could not wait to experience it.

"Bed them, Bed them, Bed them"

The hall soon erupted in a loud cacophony of noises. Margaery blushed profusely. Renly raised his hand in approval.

She felt a strong pair of arms lift her by the waist. The men gathered around her, slowly removing her clothes. She looked to Renly and saw the women doing the same.

Soon enough they were left alone in the room, naked as the day they were born. Her brother Loras was outside guarding the two.

"My King" Margaery said shyly, "How do you want to do it?"

"My Queen," Renly said with a smile, "I do not know how to say this. I am not ready my lady" he pointed to his flaccid organ.

"I could take it in my mouth and make you ready," Margaery suggested shyly.

"No. You are my Queen. I will not have you subjected to such indignities."

"That is kind of you, my lord. But our union requires consumnation."

"Some other day perhaps," Renly said while putting on a robe and exitng the room.

 _Looks like I won't be becoming a woman tonight_ , Margaery thought with a sigh. Her father might think that her husband was like Robert Baratheon but she strongly disagreed. If half of what she heard about Robert was true and if Robert was in her bed, She would already be carrying a child by the next morning.

Needing some fresh air, she put on a gown and strolled out of the room. Loras wasn't there guarding the room as he was supposed to.

 _Renly is bedding the wrong Tyrell,_ Margaery thought to herself. She went to the garden and stared at the garden. It was her pride tending to the roses at Highgarden. She heard footsteps and saw her brother Garlan behind her.

"Everything alright. sweet sister?" He asked lovingly.

"What do you think?"She said sharply, "My husband prefers to share a bed with my brother over me."

"You know very well about this before consenting to marry him. The match was ill-advised," Garlan shook his head. "I told father. Joffrey has the strongest claim to the throne. Even if the rumors of his birth are true, Renly has an elder brother whose claim is stronger than this. I advised Father against supporting Renly, but father only listens to Loras."

"And Loras only listens to Renly." Margaery added while staring into the night sky.

"Your marriage is what will give House Tyrell power if Renly sits the throne." Garlan reminded her, "Keep up this mummer's farce. You could have other lovers. The stag has horns anyway."

"What you suggest is dishonorable." Margaery said disgusted. "The Realm calls you Garlan the Gallant and yet you lack chivalry."

"I don't care what the realm calls me as long as my little sister is happy." Garlan said affectionately.

 _At least someone cares about cares only about his grandson who sits the Iron Throne. Loras cares only about Renly. Mother cares about Loras and her grandmother cared only House Tyrell's legacy._

"Father wants me to march to Hornhill with only two thousand men. Loras takes sixty thousand men to Bitterbridge. Sixty Thousand men under a boy of seventeen who hasn't even killed a man!" Garlan said incredously.

"What about Father?"

"He will remain at Highgarden with ten thousand men."

"And he calls himself a great warrior."

Garlan grinned. " You sound just like grandmother."

"Garlan." She punched his arm.

"Anyway, I should be going. Lady Leonette might be needing me." He left with a wink.

 _At least one woman will be satisfied tonight._

Margaery returned to her room and jumped into her bed. She fell asleep quickly, being tired from the day's activities.

That night she dreamt a familliar dream. A tall young man with a stocky bulid stood in front of her. He had thick redbrown hair that ran up to his shoulders. His blue eyed stare opened something deep in Margaery's heart. She felt heavy all of a sudden.

 _"Winter has come, my love" He said in a sad tone that filled her heart with dread. He kissed her on the lips. While Renly's kiss sent sparks through her body, this man's kiss made her body run wild with the flames of desire._

 _"Please don't go," She begged him but he would have none of it. He held her hand before leaving her in the dark._

 _Her vision shifted. She was now standing out in the snows. The same man stared at her with his blue eyes. But this time, it was different. There was no life in those blue eyes. Only death and an empty void of darkness. With a unearthly growl the undead man leapt at her, tearing out her throat._

Margaery woke up with a start.


	3. The Bastard Of Winterfell

_**Jon Snow**_

Robb Stark shifted in his saddle uncomfortably. They had been marching for the past week. He was growing impatient with every minute. He had rode at the head of the vanguard from the beginning of the march. Each day he would ask one of his bannermen to join him and Jon, so they might speak while they marched. He always listened to every lord, showing no favorites. Jon thought he looked exactly like their father.

Lady Catelyn Stark seem to grow worse with every day. Lord Hoster's silence was beginning to take a toll on her. Her husband and daughters were still captive at King's Landing and news of her brother's captivity didn't do any good to her. Jon felt sorry for her, eventhough she made his life miserable.

Ser Brynden Tully had been given the command of the outriders by Robb. The news his scouts brought were nothing but confirmation of what they already knew. Walder Frey, The Lord Of The Crossing sat sealed within his walls with four thousand men.

"He should have been at Riverrun with Edmure," Catelyn muttered.

"Four thousand men? He means to join us surely. We have four times his number." Theon declared.

Jon sighed. The Greyjoy had a knack for saying stupid things.

"Expect nothing of Lord Frey and you will never be surprised." Catelyn said.

"What do you think he will do, my lady" Robett Glover asked. He was riding with Robb today.

Catelyn sighed. "To be honest, I doubt even Lord Frey knows what Lord Frey intends to do."

"We must have the Twins" Robb said with vigour. "It is the only way across the river. You know that."

"So does Walder Frey," Jon added.

Robb declared for them to make camp between the kingsroad and the river. This was where Theon met them with news from the Blackfish.

"Ser Brynden says to tell you that he has crossed swords with the Lannisters. There are a dozen scouts who won't be reporting to Lord Tywin anymore." Theon said. "Ser Addam Marbrand commands their outriders and he is pulling back south. He says that Marbrand knows where we are but the Blackfish swears that the Lannisters will never find out about the split."

"Unless Lord Frey tells him" Catelyn added sharply.

"Ser Brynden's has placed his best bowmen around the Twins, my lady" Theon grinned. "We have enough birds to make a pie."

"Has the Blackfish found a way across the Green Fork?" Robb asked

"No" Theon admitted, "The river is running fast and high. Ser Brynden says it cannot be forded."

Robb cursed. " Damn the old man"

"We need that crossing, Robb" Jon reminded him.

"I know, I know." He sighed and turned to his mother, "What would father do?"

"Find a way South. Whatever it took."

The next morning Ser Brynden Tully himself came to Robb. Jon looked at the renown warrior with nothing but respect. He was tall and lean. His face was craggy and windburnt, his features lined and weathered by time. His had flowing grey hair and cheerful blue eyes. He wore leather-and-mail, with and obsidian fish fastening his cloak.

His face was grave as he dismounted. "We found bodies of the Lannister scouts. It seems that Ser Addam's men have crossed swords with the Freys"

"Surely this is a sign that Walder Frey means to join us," Theon said.

"There is a difference between defending land and giving open war, Greyjoy" Jon reminded him.

They mounted their horses and started riding south.

"If Walder Frey doen't join us, We will have to tear down Twins." Robb said.

"Easier said than done, I'm afraid." The Blackfish cautioned. "By the time you assault his walls Tywin Lannister will take you from the rear."

"If you don't get that crossing, we have to retreat and deploy at Moat Cailin."Jon told Robb.

"Are you suggesting that we abandon my family, bastard" Catelyn said venomously. Her angry blue eyes unnerved him.

"No, my lady. We would defeat Lord Tywin's host at Moat Cailin and then march on the Twins. By then Walder Frey would be lenient to us as we would have beaten Tywin Lannister, the only man Lord Frey even remotely fears."

Catelyn was shellshocked by this. Robb smiled at him.

"This one has a good mind for warfare" The Blackfish said with a chuckle.

It was noon when they came across the Twins, the seat of House Frey.

The Twins were two identical stone castles standing on a margin of the Green Fork of the Trident. A stone bridge arched between the castles, with the bridge footings rising from within the inner keeps. The bridge was wide enough for two wagons to cross abreast. It was the only crossing point over the Green Fork for hundreds of miles in either direction, from the north to the western riverlands.

One look and Jon saw that this castle could not be taken by force. Spearmen stood alligned on every battlement. Archers stood at every crenelation and tower. The gates were barred and closed while the drawbridge was closed.

The Greatjon started to swear and curse as soon as he saw their obstacle. Rickard Karstark stared at the castles in glowering silence.

"That cannot be assaulted, my lords" Roose Bolton announced.

"Nor can we take it by siege without an army invested on the other castle" Helman Tallhart added gloomily.

The drawbrige was lowered and two dozen knights rode out to greet them. Four of them dressed in expensive armor, causing Jon to guess that they were Lord Frey's sons. They bore a banner of dark blue twin-towers on a field of pale silver-grey.

 _They all look like weasels,_ Jon thought.

A man past sixty rode forward in front of them all. "I am Stevron Of House Frey and the firstborn of Lord Walder Frey" he said politely, "My father has sent me to greet you and inquire as to who leads this mighty host."

"I do" Robb spurred his horse forward, Grey Wind and Ghost at his side.

The old knight looked onto Robb with amusement in his eyes. But when his gaze met the direwolves, Jon could swear that he saw fear in those watery grey eyes.

"My lord father would be most honored if you would break bread with him in the castle and explain your intentions here."

Ser Stevron's words erupted a cacaphony of voices from the northern lords.

"You must not do this, my lord," Galbart Glover pleaded with Robb. "Lord Walder is not to be trusted."

Roose Bolton nodded. "Go in there alone and you're his. He can sell you to the Lannisters, throw you in a dungeon, or slit your throat, as he likes."

"If he wants to talk to us, let him open his gates, and we will all share his meat and mead," declared Ser Wylis Manderly.

"Or let him come out and treat with Robb here, in plain sight of his men and ours," Jon Snow suggested.

The Frey knights were rapidly losing interest.

"I will go" Catelyn Stark declared loudly, much to the surprise of Jon and the others.

"You, my lady?" The Greatjon was flabbergasted.

"Mother, are you certain?" Robb asked.

"Never more," Lady Catelyn said confidently. "Lord Walder is my father's bannerman. I have known him since I was a girl. He would never offer me any harm."

 _She is lying._ Jon realised. _She doesn't want to pass up the opportunity to cross the Twins peacefully._

"And I will escort her" Jon announced.

"You?" Robb asked incredously.

"I am certain my lord father would be pleased to speak to the Lady Catelyn," Ser Stevron said interrupting their confusion. "To vouchsafe for our good intentions, we will allow this good ser to escort your lady mother and my brother Ser Perwyn will remain here until she is safely returned to you."

"He shall be our honored guest," said Robb. Ser Perwyn, the youngest of the four Freys in the party, dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a brother. "I require my lady mother's return by evenfall, Ser Stevron," Robb went on. "It is not my intent to linger here long."

Ser Stevron Frey gave a polite nod. "As you say, my lord." Catelyn spurred her horse forward and did not look back. Jon followed her lead. When they saw Ghost following them the Freys were displeased.

"The boy can come " Stevron Frey spoke in a soft tone "but not the monster"

"Ghost, stay" Jon commanded. The Frey escort enveloped them as they rode to the Twins.

Nearly ninety, Walder Frey was completely bald, and his head was spotted with age. He had a simmilar weasely appearance to his sons. His shoulders were scrawny and his long neck pink. He had a receding chin, under which loose skin dangles. He looked at them with runny and clouded eyes. He sat at the seat of the Lord of the Crossing, a massive chair of black oak. Its back was carved in the shape of two towers joined by an arched bridge.

"Lord Frey, It is my pleasure to see you after all these years." Catelyn said courteosly. Jon stood a few feet behind Lady Catelyn.

"Is it?" Walder Frey asked through his toothless mouth.

 _So much for courtesy,_ Jon thought.

"What do you want here?" He continued rudely.

Jon could see that Lady Stark was having a hard time controlling her temper.

"We want to cross the river, my lord "

"And why should I let you do that? The Starks and the Tullys have always looked down on me."

When he saw Catelyn trying to disagree, he added."Don't you deny it. You know it is true. Lord Hoster alway- Who is that?"

He raised a poxy finger, pointing at Jon.

"That is Jon Snow, my lord. Lord Stark's ba... natural son."

"A bastard, eh?" Lord Walder gave a weasely smile at Jon. "Can't say I blame Lord Stark. I have a few of those myself." He said pointing to his sons and daughters who had clustered at the court.

"We have come here to ask you to open your gates, my lord," Catelyn said politely. "My son and his lords bannermen are most anxious to cross the river and be on their way."

"To Riverrun?" He sniggered. "Oh, no need to tell me, no need. I'm not blind yet. The old man can still read a map."

"To Riverrun," Catelyn confirmed. "Where I might have expected to find you, my lord. You are still my father's bannerman, are you not?"

"Heh," said Lord Walder, "I called my banners, have I not? I was going to send my sons to Riverrun before your fool brother lost the battle."

 _That's not good._

"My Lord," Lady Stark's voice had lost all courtesy. "What do you want of us to cross the river?"

"Now we are talking." Walder Frey said with a toothless smile

The rest was only haggling.

It was late in the evening when Jon and Lady Stark rode out to rejoin her son and his lords bannermen. Behind them came Ser Jared Frey, Ser Hosteen Frey, Ser Danwell Frey, and Lord Walder's bastard son Ronel Rivers, leading a long column of pikemen, rank on rank of shuffling men in blue steel ringmail and silvery grey cloaks.

Robb galloped out to meet her, with Grey Wind and Ghost racing beside his stallion. "It's done," she told him. "Lord Walder will grant you your crossing. His swords are yours as well, less four hundred he means to keep back to hold the Twins."

"As you say, Mother," Robb answered, gazing at the ranks of pikemen. "Perhaps . . . Ser Helman Tallhart, do you think?"

"A fine choice."

"What . . . what did he want of us?"

"If you can spare a few of your swords, I need some men to escort two of Lord Frey's grandsons north to Winterfell," she told him. "I have agreed to take them as wards. They are young boys, aged eight years and seven. It would seem they are both named Walder. Your brother Bran will welcome the companionship of lads near his own age, I should think."

"Is that all? Two fosterlings? That's a small enough price to—"

"Lord Frey's son Olyvar will be coming with us," she went on. "He is to serve as your personal squire. His father would like to see him knighted, in good time."

"A squire." He shrugged. "Fine, that's fine, if he's—"

"Also, if your sister Arya is returned to us safely, it is agreed that she will marry Lord Walder's youngest son, Elmar, when the two of them come of age."

"Arya won't like that one bit."

"And you are to wed one of his daughters, once the fighting is done," she finished. "His lordship has graciously consented to allow you to choose whichever girl you prefer. He has a number he thinks might be suitable."

To his credit, Robb did not flinch. "I see."

"Do you consent?"

"Can I refuse?"

"Not if you wish to cross."

"I consent," Robb said solemnly.

They crossed at evenfall as a the moon floated on the river. Catelyn rode at the head of the vanguard, with her son and her uncle Ser Brynden and Ser Stevron Frey. Behind followed nine tenths of their horse; knights, lancers, freeriders, and mounted bowmen. It took hours for them all to cross. Afterward, Jon would remember the clatter of countless hooves on the drawbridge, the sight of Lord Walder Frey in his litter watching them pass, the glitter of eyes peering down through the slats of the murder holes in the ceiling as they rode through the Water Tower.

The larger part of the northern host, pikes and archers and great masses of men-at-arms on foot, remained upon the east bank under the command of Robett Glover. Robb had commanded him to continue the march south, to confront the huge Lannister army coming north under Lord Tywin.

As they made their way south, Jon wondered whether he would ever see his father again.

 **A/N: Some of the chapter is taken from the book as I feel that it is better that I follow G.R.R.M's canon here as he wrote it pretty well. Also guys I am looking for a new thumbnail for this story. If you have any images please feel free to send me the link.**


	4. The Dwarf of Casterly Rock

_**Tyrion Lannister**_

It was noon when Tyrion and his companions found the Lannister army. A never ending line of camps spread as far as Tyrion could see. He spotted the Lion of Lannister flying proudly at almost very camp. He also spied the red ox of the Presters, Lord Crakehall's brindled boar, the burning tree of Marbrand, the badger of Lydden. Tyrion estimated about a fifty thousand men.

 _So Father really cared for me_ Tyrion thought bitterly.

A party of mounted men came forth to challenge them. The knight who led them wore silver armor inlaid with amethysts and a striped purple-and-silver cloak. His shield bore a unicorn sigil, and a spiral horn two feet long jutted up from the brow of his horsehead helm. Tyrion reined up to greet him. "Ser Flement."

Ser Flement Brax lifted his visor. "Lord Tyrion," he said in astonishment. "My lord, we all feared you dead, or . . . " He looked at the clansmen uncertainly. "These . . . companions of yours . . . "

"Loyal friends and retainers." Tyrion grinned. "Tell me, Ser Flement, where will I find my Lord Father."

"Lord Tywin has taken the inn at the crossroads for his quarters."

"I will see him at once."

"As you say, my lord" Ser Flement called out orders and his mounted men enveloped them in an escort.

Soon they arrived at the inn. The inn and its stables were much as he remembered, though little more than tumbled stones and blackened foundations remained where the rest of the village had stood. A gibbet had been erected in the yard, and the body that swung there was covered with ravens. At Tyrion's approach they took to the air, squawking and flapping their black wings. He dismounted and glanced up at what remained of the corpse. The birds had eaten her lips and eyes and most of her cheeks, baring her stained red teeth in a hideous smile.

 _So Father has already started without me._

Some boys came out of the stables to take their horses as they dismounted. When one lad took the reins of Shagga's horse, he lifted the boy by his ear.

"What are you doing, Shagga?" Tyrion asked.

"This boy was trying to steal my horse," Shagga bellowed waving the boy in the air.

 _Good Gods_

"The boy was merely going to give the horse a few oats and brush his coat." Tyrion said, "You have my word."

Shagga dropped the boy, "This horse belongs to Shagga son of Dolf. If something were to happen to it, I will-"

" Chop his manhood and feed it to the goats." Tyrion finished for him. The boys paled visibly.

A pair of house guards in crimson cloaks and lion-crested helms stood under the inn's sign, on either side of the door. Tyrion recognized their captain. "My father?"

"In the common room, m'lord."

"My men will want meat and mead," Tyrion told him. "See that they get it." He entered the inn, and there was Father.

Tywin Lannister was a tall, slender, broad-shouldered man in his fifties. His head was bare as he kept his head shaved ever since he started going bald. He had bushy golden side-whiskers and green eyes flecked with gold.

Ser Kevan Lannister, the only surviving brother was breaking bread with Lord Tywin when Tyrion entered the was a portly big man with broad shoulders and a thick waist. His short blond hair was balding, and he had a close-cropped, yellow beard that follows the line of his massive jaw. He also had green eyes and fair skin. It was he who noticed Tyrion first.

"Tyrion" He said in a surprised tone.

"Uncle, Father" He greeted them. He looked at Lord Tywin, "Don't need to get up and embrace me, Father. I wouldn't want you to strain yourself."

"It seems to me that rumors of your demise were greatly exagerated" Tywin said curtly.

"Sorry to disapoint you, Father." Tyrion waddles over to the table and grabbed a flagon of ale. He took a large swing of it. It must have been a very fine Vintage. _Should have expected nothing less from the man who shits Gold._ "I see that you went to war for me. How kind of you."

"I blame all this nuisances on you, Tyrion. Your brother Jaime wouldn't submit himself to the captivity of a woman meekly."

"We are so different, my brother and I. Have you also noticed he is taller?"

Tywin ignored Tyrion's sarcasm. "The honor of House Lannister was at stake. Why should we be feared if a member of House Tully could capture one of our members with impunity?"

 _Hear me Roar,_ Tyrion thought. "The two guards I had were killed in the Vale."

" I suppose that you will be wanting new men."

"No I seem to have found men of my own. How well is the war going?"

His uncle answered, "Fairly well, if I say so myself. We have taken Raventree and Harrenhall. Your brother has defeated Ser Edmure in the field and taken him captive. He has also left Stone Hedge a smoking ruin."

"So we are unaposed in the riverlands?" Tyrion asked. He took taking another swig of wine earning another look of disaproval from his father.

"Not entirely." Kevan said, "Seagard and the Twins still remain unaffected."

"Walder Frey is a man who won't take to the field unless victory is certain." Tywin said "and Jason Mallister doesn't have enough men to make a difference-"

"Leaving only the Starks and Arryns in opposition to us." Tyrion finished.

"Ned Stark rots in a prison in King's Landing" Tywin told his son.

"Aye, but his son has called his banners and sits in Moat Cailin." Kevan said.

"A pup, nothing more." Tywin said with impunity.

"And pray tell me what King Robert is doing when his best friend rots in prison?"

Tywin stared at Tyrion with his gold-specked eyes. "Robert Baratheon is dead. King Joffrey rules in King's Landing." That shocked Tyrion.

 _"My sister, you mean."_

Tywin ignored that. "If you have a mind to make yourself of use, I will give you a command. Marq Piper and Karl Vance are loose in our rear. They seem to be pillaging and looting our camps. Ned Stark's afterthoughts still haunt us. A marcher lord with delusions of grandeur keeps raiding our foraging parties."

"And how many men will you spare. Ten? Twenty? No doubt if I come across these lords I will spank them."

A loud crash was heard along with a great growl. Kevan stood up from his seat. The door smashed into splinters as the captain of the guards went flying into the hearth. Shagga and the other mountain clansmen entered the common room one-by-one.

"Which one is the Lion Lord?" Chella asked.

"Don't know. Both of them look old to me." Timmet said, scratching his head.

"What in the seven hells are you savages doing here?" Kevan asked furiously.

"Savages? Timmet do not like this Lowlander. We come with the Halfman" Timmet son of Timmet said.

"Can I keep them, Father. They don't eat much."

Ser Kevan's hand went to his sword hilt, but his brother placed two fingers on his wrist and held him fast. Lord Tywin seemed unperturbed. "Tyrion, have you forgotten your courtesies? Kindly acquaint us with our . . . honored guests."

Tyrion licked his fingers. "With pleasure," he said. "The fair woman is Chella daughter of Cheyk of the Black Ears. This is Conn son of Coratt. Shagga son of Dolf is the one who looks like Casterly Rock with hair. They are Stone Crows. Here is Ulf son of Umar of the Moon Brothers, and here Timett son of Timett, a red hand of the Burned Men. And this is Bronn, a sellsword of no particular allegiance. He has already changed sides twice in the short time I've known him, you and he ought to get on famously, Father." To Bronn and the clansmen he said, "May I present my lord father, Tywin son of Tytos of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Shield of Lannisport, and once and future Hand of the King."

Lord Tywin rose, dignified and correct. "The entirety of the Seven Kingdoms knows of the prowess of the Vale mountain clans. What brings you down from your strongholds, my lords?"

"Horses," said Shagga.

"A promise of silk and steel," said Timett son of Timett.

Tyrion was about to tell his lord father how he proposed to reduce the Vale of Arryn to a smoking wasteland, but he was never given the chance. The door banged open again. The messenger gave Tyrion's clansmen a quick, queer look as he dropped to one knee before Lord Tywin. "My lord," he said, "Ser Addam bid me tell you that the Stark host is moving down the causeway."

Lord Tywin Lannister did not smile. Lord Tywin never smiled, but Tyrion had learned to read his father's pleasure all the same, and it was there on his face. "So the wolfling is leaving his den to play among the lions," he said in a voice of quiet satisfaction. "Splendid. Return to Ser Addam and tell him to fall back. He is not to engage the northerners until we arrive, but I want him to harass their flanks and draw them farther south."

"It will be as you command." The rider took his leave.

"We are well situated here," Ser Kevan pointed out. "Close to the ford and ringed by pits and spikes. If they are coming south, I say let them come, and break themselves against us."

"The boy may hang back or lose his courage when he sees our numbers," Lord Tywin replied. "The sooner the Starks are broken, the sooner I shall be free to deal with Stannis Baratheon. Tell the drummers to beat assembly, and send word to Jaime that I am marching against Robb Stark."

"As you will," Ser Kevan said.

Tyrion watched with a grim fascination as his lord father turned next to the half-wild clansmen. "It is said that the men of the mountain clans are warriors without fear."

"And the women," Chella added.

"It is said truly," Conn of the Stone Crows answered.

"Ride with me against my enemies, and you shall have all my son promised you, and more," Lord Tywin told them.

"Would you pay us with our own coin?" Ulf son of Umar said. "Why should we need the father's promise, when we have the son's?"

"I said nothing of need," Lord Tywin replied. "My words were courtesy, nothing more. You need not join us. The men of the winterlands are made of iron and ice, and even my boldest knights fear to face them."

 _Oh, deftly done_ , Tyrion thought, smiling crookedly.

"The Burned Men fear nothing. Timett son of Timett will ride with the lions."

"Wherever the Burned Men go, the Stone Crows have been there first," Conn declared hotly. "We ride as well."

"Shagga son of Dolf will chop off their manhoods and feed them to the crows."

"We will ride with you, lion lord," Chella daughter of Cheyk agreed, "but only if your halfman son goes with us. He has bought his breath with promises. Until we hold the steel he has pledged us, his life is ours."

Lord Tywin turned his gold-flecked eyes on his son.

Tyrion could only smile back at his father.


	5. The Battle At The Whispering Woods

**Jon Snow**

Today was the day. Jon was very nervous as he saw the men readying themselves for the encounter with the Lannisters. Robb called all the lords to join him in his camp for the finalization of their attack startegy.

Lord Jason Mallister had joined them with a thousand men from Seagard. He wore indigo and silver armor. His helm was decorated in the shape of wings of an eagle. His son, Patrek also wore matching armor.

Robb pointed to a location on the map. "You will raid here, Ser Brynden. Tully Banners. No more than fifty men."

He pointed to another location "Retreat here. We will be waiting here...and here."

And that was the end of that.

Lady Catelyn was guarded by seven men led by Hallis Mollen on the top of a ridge. She was unhappy, telling Robb that he needed all the men he could get. Stubborn as he is, Robb would have none of it.

Jon Snow was now by Robb's side awaiting the Lannisters. On the other side stood Theon Greyjoy. Behind them stood the noble sons of all Houses that fought for him. Robb's Lord Bannermen insisted on this, refusing to let their liege fight alone.

Jon saw the Blackfish's command retreat first. Ser Brynden was pulling back as Robb told him to.

"Here we go," Robb muttered.

And then Jon saw them. The golden lion banners flapping in the air. They were lead by a man in Golden armor. _The Kingslayer._

 _Arooooooooooooooooo,_ The Mormonts sound the horn.

Aroooooooooooooo, The Freys, Mallisters and karstarks added their voices to the cacophony.

 _House Stark, For Robb,_ Jon heard many battle cries as they began charging against the ambushed Lannisters. Jon drew his sword and followed Robb into battle.

He swung his sword at the first man he met, opening his guts and spilling his entrails. The next man cut down Jon's horse, causing Jon to leap clear of the thrashing animal. Jon then jumped and cut of the man's throat and he died with a loud gurgle. Another dismounted knight charged him, waving his sword in the air like a madman. Jon parried his attack and slid under the knight's next swing cutting open his belly.

Jon continued his onslaught against the Lannisters. Most of them were on foot now as their horses had been killed by the hidden bowmen. He saw Robb and Theon take many lives and fight valiantly. Jon brought up his sword to meet the next attacker. He had a grindled boar sewn on his chest as he ran towards Jon, swinging his axe. Jon blocked the attack from taking his head. However, the impact of the blow shattered Jon's sword and brought him to his knees.

 _This is how it ends,_ Jon thought sadly. A low howl startled Jon's attacker. Before he even knew it, Ghost leaped and tore his throat open. The man gurgled blood loudly as he died slowly. Jon picked up a fallen Northener's sword and drove it into the gut of the man, putting him out of his misery.

"The bastard of Winterfell," Jon turned to find a tall man in golden armor decorated with the Lannister lion and ornate lion's helmet. He held a gilded longsword in his head. Nearly five dozen dead northeners laid dead in his wake."It is my pleasure to be killing you."

Ser Jaime brought up his longsword and swung it at Jon's chest. Jon brought up his blade to parry the attack. The Kingslayer then danced to his left as he dodged Jon's next swing. Jon backhanded his swing, causing his sword butt to knock of Ser Jaime's helmet, revealing a handsome head with curled hair the color of beaten gold. His flashing cat-green eyes stared at Jon and his lip curled into a smile that cut like a knife. Jon charged the Kingslayer. Ser Jaime just moved to his left and sliced his sword at Jon's back, making a large cut. Jon screamed in agony as he swung wildly in an erratic attack. The Kingslayer quickly disarmed him and pointed his longsword at Jon's chest.

"You fight well for a bastard" He admitted, panting. "But not well enough."

"KINGSLAYER"

Ser Jaime turned to see a warrior staring at him. He was dressed in grey armor and had the direwolf engraved in his chest. Robb too had lost his helm and stared at the Kingslayer with his deep blue eyes. His redbrown hair flowed untill his shoulders. The streaks of the light of dawn surrounded him, reflecting off his armor. Ser Jaime raised his longsword and pointed it at Robb.

Robb met him bravely. "Dance with me then." He lifted his sword high over his head, defiant. Yet in that moment, Jon thought, he was a boy no longer, but a man.

The clash of their steel sang across the battlefield. The entire host fighting was jut a blur to Jon. He could not take his eyes from the duel. Robb's movements were graceful and swift while the Kingslayer relied more on his strength. Robb danced around Ser Jaime's swings and gave him multiple cuts and gashes everywhere. The Kingslayer paid them back in kind. Robb's body was filled with areas where the Kingslayer's longsword met his skin.

This went on for a very an long time. Finally, tired of Robb's swift movements, Ser Jaime charged Robb and in an attempt to run through him. Robb just danced to the side and the Kingslayer's sword embedded itself into the dirt. Robb just kicked him in the chest and he fell on his back. Robb then placed his foot at Ser Jaime Lannister's chest and pointed his sword at his neck.

"Yield." He said in a gruff tone.

"I Yield, my lord" Ser Jaime said in a soft tone, too embarrased to say it loudly.

 _The Lannisters and their pride,_ Jon cursed

The rest of the men didn't put much of a fight after that. As soon as the Kingslayer was in chains, Robb came and helped Jon up.

"Are you alright, Brother?" He asked, concerned.

"Yes." Jon replied weakly.

"I'll have a maester tend to you."

"I'm fine, Robb." He said adamantly. "There are men who need the maesters more than me."

"You fought well today."

"You don't say...You are the one who defeated the Kingslayer in single combat." Jon said admiringly.

"I almost died half a hundred times. Mother will kill me if she finds out that I faced Ser Jaime alone."

Jon just chuckled.

"Now we have a have something to bargain with." Robb's expression turned serious, "A guarantee that the Lannisters won't kill our family."

Lady Catelyn rushed into the view. She cursed as she saw the cuts all around Robb's body.

"Seven Hells, Robb. Fifteen highborn sons let this happen to you." She said as she dismounted.

"No, Robb defeated the Kingslayer in single combat, my lady" Theon said, despite Robb's efforts to tell him to stop.

"HE WHAT?" Cateln asked.

Jon just gave Robb a tap on the shoulder as he and Theon left him at the mercy of Lady Catelyn.

 **A/N: I apologize for the previous three chapters that had alot of elements taken from the books as I wanted to maintain GRRM's canon till now and I couldn't find a way to write it more perfectly than that. From now on there won't be any chapters taken from the book.**


	6. The Battle Of The Camps

**Robb Stark**

Robb was still high from his victory at the Whispering Woods. Everyone called him the Young Wolf after he defeated Ser Jaime Lannister in single combat. The only person not happy about it was his mother Catelyn. She was proud of him for defeating the Kingslayer but she was not happy that Robb had been the one to challenge him. But he put away all those thoughts as he prepared for today's battle.

Today Jon was riding in the vanguard with Brynden Blackfish Tully. Robb had Theon and the rest of his battle companions, but he still missed the confidence his half-brother gave him when he was present.

The moon was shining in the sky when Robb heard the loud warhorn echo across the silent night. The Blackfish had began his assault on the Northern camp.

Robb signalled for his own horns to send the reply.

 _Arooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

 _"_ CHARGE. _"_ He gave the command.

The entire cavalry unit under Robb Stark descended down the hills onto the sleeping Lannister camp.

The first man Robb met was a groggy knight of House Marbrand. He still did not realize what was going on, as he swung his axe wildly. Robb damned him to the seven hells with only one swipe of his sword. The next man was more prepared. He wielded a warhammer in one hand with utter ease. The first blow killed Robb's horse and sent him flying from the horse. Robb landed on his back against the hard ground. The man then brought his hammer up and delivered the second blow, aiming for Robb's chest. Robb brought up his shield and it split in half for the impact of the blow. As the man raised his warhammer, Robb pushed the ruined shield aside and drove his sword deep into the man's guts. Robb saw the light go out in the man's eye as he drew his sword out.

Robb caught sight of a stray horse, riderless, panicked with flight galloping across the battlefield. He timed his leap and landed right on it's back. Using his powerful legs, he steered the horse's massive body. and launched them towards the thick of the fighting.

Grey Wind was having an enjoyable time. He had just ripped a Crakehall knight in half. Behind him there was an onslaught of more than half a dozen dead men. Many of the men-at-arms were vary of confronting the direwolf.

The Greatjon and the Umber men torched the siege towers. They went aflame and lit the whole battlefield, startling the already groggy Lannisters.

Robb and his battleguard moved to engage a battalion of formed pikemen. Some of the Lannisters, having overcome the initial shock were slowly getting into formation. They were forming a shieldhall with their backs to Riverrun. Robb spied half a thousand men trying to cross the river and aid the Northern camp through rafts. They were led by a man wearing a helm designed with an unicorn head. Lord Brax, Robb guessed. Just then, catapaults began launching at the rafts and downing them. The survivors of the capsizing rafts only found the Blackfish waiting for them at the bank of the river.

Another warhorn sounded behind the Lannister shieldwall and Robb saw men carrying Tully banners flock out of the gates of Riverrun and take the pikemen in the rear. The advantage of the pikemen neutralized, Robb gave the command for the cavalry to charge the pikemen. The battle was a bloody mess but it ended when the first streaks of sunlight began spearing across the sky.

Grey Wind began to howl as soon as the battle was over. He was joined by his littermate Ghost. The two direwolves howls echoed across Riverrun. Even the Stark men were unnerved by these unearthly noises.

The men started cheering soon after.

"This has been a great victory, my lords" Theon Greyjoy declared," The Seven Kingdoms haven't seen a victory like this since the field of fire."

"We have won nothing yet." Robb told Theon and the men "Two victories don't make us conquerors. Have we freed my lord father? Have we saved my sisters from the clutches of the Queen? Did we free the North from those who want us on our knees? The war is far from over."

He began walking back to his tent.

"Good speech you gave there." He turned to see a grinning Jon.

"It seems that we have a new king." Robb told him in a serious tone while they were walking back to his tent.

"Joffrey is dead?"

"Not yet. Renly Baratheon has been declared King at Highgarden. All the power of the Reach and the stormlands support his claim."

"Seven Hells." Jon cursed, "Then he will have amost a hundred thousand men. If we declare for him-"

"No, we can't. Even if we ignore Joffrey and Tommen's claims, Stannis Baratheon has a stronger claim than Renly."

"Yes. We have to choose our next move wisely."

"Yes, Brother. But now I'd like to be alone."

Jon nodded and left Robb to continue the rest of the way to his tent alone.

When he got there, he noticed that tent flaps were open, showing that someone already went in there. He smiled and gave orders for his guards not to allow anyone to disturb him.

In front of him stood a sight to behold. Dacey Mormont stood in front of him, naked as her nameday. Silent he stood, drinking in the glories of her body, the hollow of her throat, the round ripe breasts with their huge dark nipples, the lush curves at waist and hip. And then somehow he was holding her, and she was pulling off his clothes, his armor long gone. Her skin was smooth beneath his fingers. He raised her head and found her lips. Her mouth opened under his, and her breasts filled his hands. He felt her nipples stiffen as his thumbs brushed over them. Her hair was black and thick and smelled of orchids, a dark and earthy smell that made him so hard it almost hurt.

"Touch me," the woman whispered in his ear. His hand slipped down her rounded belly to find the sweet wet place beneath the thicket of black hair. "Yes, there," she murmured as he slipped a finger up inside her. She made a whimpering sound, drew him to the featherbed, and pushed him down. Her hands guided him inside her, then slipped around his back to pull him closer. "Deeper," she whispered. "Yes, oh." When she wrapped her legs around him, they felt as strong as steel. Her nails raked his back as he drove into her, again and again and again, until she screamed and arched her back beneath him. As she did, her fingers found his nipples, pinching till he spent his seed within her.

When they were done they rested on the bed, Dacey's head on Robb's chest.

"I am to be married soon," Dacey said.

"Huh. Who is the lucky man?"

"Smalljon Umber. My mother has already arranged the bethrotal. It is to be announced in the next fortnight."

"Are you happy?" Robb asked her concerned.

"Yes. What more could one expect of a husband? We never had more than a physical relationship. That I told you from the start. Maybe I could find love with the Smalljon."

Robb sighed as he felt Dacey's breathing ragged breathing flatten and doze off. Robb followed her soon.

 _Robb was lying in the dirt, unable to move. A fat drunk man in red robes tripped over his body._

 _"Look what we have here." He called to his friends. "A dead body."_

 _Laughing they kicked Robb 's vision blurred untill he found himself standing by a lake. He turned around and saw the dead bodies of the men who played with his corpse._

 _He looked at his reflection in the lake. The face that met his was not that of his own. It was a woman's face. Cold blue veins ran across her skin like a network of roads. Her eyes were a deeper shade of blue than any man ever had. The worst part was her skin. It was deathly pale and white._

 _Robb opened his mouth to scream but the only sound that came was a deep growl. He knew this face. It was his mother's._

Robb woke with a start.

 **A/N: Dacey Mormont is no more than a paramour for Robb Stark. She doesn't want to marry him but that doesn't mean they cannot sleep together.**

 **Many of you guys were unhappy that I gave Robb Stark the victory against Jaime Lannister instead of giving it to Jon. I assure you that the we will see what a good swordsman Jon is later on. Spoiler Alerts but he turns out to be better than Robb.**


	7. The Honorable Man

**Eddard Stark**

Ned spent most of the time in darkness thinking about his daughters. Sansa and Arya were left solely at the mercy of the Queen.

 _Damn the man._ Ned thought, _I should have known better than to trust that weasel. Even he warned me not to trust him. Now because of my stupidity Sansa and Arya are in danger._

The door opened and the gaoler returned in with a flask. He shut the door and knelt behind Ned. He then pulled back his hood to reveal a face that was familiar to Ned.

"Varys?" he asked incredously.

"Yes it is me, my lord." Varys bowed down. Ned never thought that he would ever be happy to see the Spider. "What do you wish for the most?"

"Wine," The moss-filled water that the other gaolers brought him had left his throat dry as the Dornish sands. Varys brought forth a wineskin from his long sleeves.

"What sort of sorceror are you?" Ned asked surprised.

"A thirsty one," Varys said. "Drink, my lord."

Ned's hands fumbled at the skin. "Is this the same poison they gave Robert?"

"You wrong me," Varys said sadly. "Truly, no one loves a eunuch. Give me the skin." He drank, a trickle of red leaking from the corner of his plump mouth. "Not the equal of the vintage you offered me the night of the tourney, but no more poisonous than most," he concluded, wiping his lips. "Here."

Ned tried a swallow. "Dregs." He felt as though he were about to bring the wine back up.

"All men must swallow the sour with the sweet. High lords and eunuchs alike. Your hour has come, my lord."

"My daughters?"

"The younger one managed to escape Ser Meryn Trant. The Lannisters haven't been able to find her. A small mercy. There is no love between her and the new king. The older one still remains betrothed to Joffrey. She came to court a few days ago. If you had been there, you would be touched." Varys looked deep into Ned's eyes, "I trust that you think that you are a dead man, don't you, Lord Stark?"

"The queen will not kill me. Cat holds her brother."

"Held. Lysa Arryn seems to have misplaced your wife's prisoner. But then that was the wrong brother. Your son managed to get a finer prize. The queen's beloved Ser Jaime."

Ned was flabbergasted.

"The Kingslayer? How did Robb manage to get the Kingslayer."

"Lannister was besieging Riverrun. Your son managed to draw him to Whispering Wood and defeated him in single combat."

"Single Combat?" Ned asked incredously, "How in the Seven Hells did Robb defeat the Kingslayer in single combat?"

"No one will know, my lord." Varys tutted. "But there might still be a chance for you to live. We cannot predict anything with the new king, I fear. He rarely ever listens to the small council. But the Queen will not want to harm you, Have no fear on that count."

"What of Tywin Lannister?" The lion lord was unlikely to sit still as his family members became captive one-by-one.

"Lord Tywin cannot do anything. He is trapped on the east side of the Trident. Your son made sure of that. He defeated your son's diversionary host commanded by Robett Glover." Varys smiled at Ned, "I have to tell you, your son has a good mind for warfare. They call him the Young Wolf now."

Ned couldn't have been any prouder of his son.

"In truth, the Queen fears your son. She thought of him at first to be only a boy but after he defeated Jaime, she sees him in a whole new light. The Queen now knows that a tame wolf is better than a dead one. And it will give her time to deal with King Robert's brothers."

"Robert's brothers?"

"Renly Baratheon has been declared King at Highgarden. The power of the Stormlands and the Reach march behind him. No one knows what Stannis is doing at Dragonstone except that he has called his banners."

"And why would Robb listen to her?"

"Because you will tell him to."

"And why would I do that? You want me to serve the woman who murdered my king, butchered my men, and crippled my son?" Ned's voice was thick with disbelief.

"I want you to serve the realm," Varys said. "Tell the queen that you will confess your vile treason, command your son to lay down his sword, and proclaim Joffrey as the true heir. Offer to denounce Stannis and Renly as faithless usurpers. Our green-eyed lioness knows you are a man of honor. If you will give her the peace she needs and the time to deal with Stannis, and pledge to carry her secret to your grave, I believe she will allow you to take the black and live out the rest of your days on the Wall, with your brother."

"Tell me Lord Varys, You think I value my life over my honor?" Ned asked him.

"No, my lord. But what about your daughter's?" Varys asked with impunity.

"Good Gods." Ned cursed. "Sansa is just a girl."

"So was Rhaenys Targaryen. Did you know that she had a kitten called Balerion? She loved to call him Balerion the Black Dread. But Armory Lorch showed her the difference between a dragon and a kitten the day he shoved his dagger into her guts half a hundred times."

Ned took a long swig of his wine.

"There is another way." A deep gravelly voice came from behind Varys. A man with armor consisting of a shirt of enameled scales chased with gold, a tall helm with a golden sunburst crest, greaves, and gorget and gauntlets and boots of gleaming plate and a heavy wool cloak clasped with a golden lion stepped out of the darkness. _A Knight of the Kingsguard_. Ned hadn't seen him enter, but by the look on Varys' face, he suspected that the Spider had brought him along.

The knight removed his tall helm revealing a pair of droopy eyes and a red beard.

"Ser Meryn?"

"No, Lord Stark." Ned watched in a mixture of fascination and revulsion as the man peeled of his face and wig to reveal a bald head with a beak of a nose.

 _"Syrio Forel."_

 **A/N: If you guys are enjoying the series please make sure to fav and follow the story as it goes a long way. Also I am in need of a new thumbnail for this story so if anyone can send me links to some through PM. Any artists are also welcome to draw new fanart of Robb Stark as I feel that the ASOIAF lacks these.**


	8. Baelor's Sept

**Arya Stark**

The sweet scent of freshly baked bread was everpresent in the Street of Flour. Arya thought that the smell was sweater than anything she had ever smelt. She clutched a dead pigeon in her hand as she wandered around.

She came across a baker pushing his cart across the street. The sweet scent of the lemoncakes and blueberry tarts. Her stomach let out a low growl.

"Can I have one please?" Arya found herself asking the man.

The man looked down on her with a look of disgust. "Three Coppers."

"Would you like a nice fat pigeon instead?" Arya asked sweetly as she could.

The baker just turned around and started wheeling his cart. If she snatched a tart and made a run for it, she knew that the man would never be able to catch her.

"Don't even think about it, boy?" The man said, reading her mind, "The gold cloaks know what to do with thieving little lads, like you."

Arya then only noticed the two city watchmen who were patrolling the cities. Their cloaks hung almost to the ground, the heavy wool dyed a rich gold; their mail and boots and gloves were black. One wore a longsword at his hip, the other an iron cudgel. With a last wistful glance at the tarts, Arya edged back from the cart and hurried off. The gold cloaks had not been paying her any special attention, but the sight of them tied her stomach in knots. Arya had been staying as far from the castle as she could get, yet even from a distance she could see the heads rotting atop the high red walls. Flocks of crows squabbled noisily over each head, thick as flies. The talk in Flea Bottom was that the gold cloaks had thrown in with the Lannisters, their commander raised to a lord, with lands on the Trident and a seat on the king's council. She dodged the Watchmen and headed into the Street of Silks.

Arya also heard more scarier things, that made no sense. Her father had killed King Robert, she heard from a whore at Chataya's. Another man said that Renly had killed his brother and fled in the dark of the night. Arya didn't know who to believe. The streets in King's Landing seemed to be filled with more gossip than usual in the past few days.

It was then that the dreadful sound rang across the streets. This time it seemed to be less sharp than the bells that rang when Robert I Baratheon. A whore opened her window from the top of a brothel in the Street of Silks.

"Wonder who died know." She said as Arya spied a tall, lanky man rutting at her from behind. Her large melon shaped breasts moved with every thrust of the man.

"Stupid Whore." A fat man called from the bottom, "If a King dies all the bells in King's Landing ring like they did last week. These are summoning bells."

Arya didn't get a chance to listen to the rest of their conversation as two highborn lordlings swept past her and headed in the direction Baelor's sept. She recognized the two, Horror and Slobber Redwyne. Behind them was a large group of peasants who were also making their way into Baelor's Sept. Arya caught hold of a tanner's son.

"What's going on?" She demanded, shaking him to the bone.

"Don't you know? Today's the trial."

"Who's trial?"

The boy distangled himself from Arya.

"The Lord Hand's."

Arya rushed with the rest of the crowd onto Belor's sept to see what the fuss was about. She couldn't see anything as the the human torrent in front of her blocked her view. She looked up at Baelor the Blessed, the septon king. Arya began to climb. She made it up, and wedged herself in between the king's feet. Sure enough her father stood at the elevated platform. But he was not the same Arya last saw him. Lord Eddard Stark had aged almost a decade through the last two weeks. His face was lined with a patchwork of aged lines crossed across his face. His face was lined with pain. Despite all this, he was dressed in a rich grey velvet doublet with a white wolf sewn on the front in beads, and a grey wool cloak trimmed with fur.

The High Septon stood behind him. A fat grey man in white robes, his crown of spun gold and crystal relfected rainbows in his head as he moved.

Arya also spied some other knights and high lords. Joffrey was prominent among them, his raiment all crimson, silk and satin patterned with prancing stags and roaring lions, a gold crown on his head. His queen mother stood beside him in a black mourning gown slashed with crimson, a veil of black diamonds in her hair. Arya recognized the Hound, wearing a snowy white cloak over his dark grey armor, with four of the Kingsguard around him. She saw Varys the eunuch gliding among the lords in soft slippers and a patterned damask robe, and she thought the short man with the silvery cape and pointed beard might be the one who had once fought a duel for Mother.

And there in their midst was Sansa, dressed in sky-blue silk, with her long auburn hair washed and curled and silver bracelets on her wrists. Arya scowled, wondering what her sister was doing here, why she looked so happy.

Everyone strained to listen as Lord Stark began to speak.

I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King," he said more loudly, his voice carrying across the plaza, "and I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and men."

"No," Arya whimpered. Below her, the crowd began to scream and shout. Taunts and obscenities filled the air. Sansa had hidden her face in her hands.

Her father raised his voice still higher, straining to be heard. "I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend, Robert," he shouted. "I swore to defend and protect his children, yet before his blood was cold, I plotted to depose and murder his son and seize the throne for myself. Let the High Septon and Baelor the Beloved and the Seven bear witness to the truth of what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, and by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

The commonfolk began pelting her father with stones. One hit the corner of his eye and blood spurted out of the gash. The next stone hit him in the chest and the Lord of Winterfell collapsed to the ground. The gold cloaks held him up again. The Queen and Joffrey stood behind the shields of the Kingsguard knights.

The High Septon raised his hands, beckoning the crowd to become silent. He then knelt before Joffrey and his mother. "As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in the sights of gods and men. The gods are just, yet Baelor the Blessed taught us that they are also merciful." He looked up at Joffrey. "What shall be done with this traitor, Your Grace?"

King Joffrey stepped out from behind the shields of his Kingsguard. "My mother asks me to let Lord Stark take the black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father." Joffrey smiled at Sansa, "but they have the soft hearts of Women. Lord Stark's son fights my kin as we speak. This shall be my message to him. As long as I am your King, treason shall go unpunished."

There was a sudden silence across the plaza.

"Ser Illyn, bring me his head!"

The crowd erupted into chaos. The High Septon said something to Joffrey but he just pushed the fat man out of the way. Varys came forward rushing and waving his arms. Even Cersei Lannister was saying something to him, but Joffrey just shook his head. Arya dimly saw Sansa let out a guttaral moan and collapse to the floor. She then saw Ser Meryn lift her and step back disapearing admidst the chaos.

Arya leaped of her hiding space, drawing Needle. She was going to cut a bloody path to her father and save him. Just as she was moving, she felt a strong pair of arms seize her.

Unable to move she looked up as she saw lords and knights moved aside as he stepped through, tall and fleshless, a skeleton in iron mail, the King's Justice. High atop the pulpit, Ser Ilyn Payne gestured and the knight in black-and-gold gave a command. The gold cloaks flung Lord Eddard to the marble, with his head and chest out over the edge.

"Here, boy" An angry voice shouted behind her. She could only stare in horror as she saw Ser Ilyn draw a two-handed greatsword from the scabbard on his back. As he lifted the blade above his head, sunlight seemed to ripple and dance down the dark metal, glinting off an edge sharper than any razor. Ice, she thought, he has Ice! Her tears streamed down her face, blinding her.

A hand blocked her vision as she saw Ice swing down and kiss her father's neck.


	9. You Win Or You Die

**Sansa Stark**

Sansa wept heavily. The tears overflowing her eyes wet her beautiful gown. She was being lifted by a knight of the Kingsguard out of Baelor's Sept. Instead of heading east to the Red Keep, they headed north and ducked into an alley.

Sansa was suddenly aware of where she was. She immediately started to hide her tears from the knight

 _I am a Stark of Winterfell._

The knight removed his tall helm and put on a dusty cloak over his Kingsguard armor. He hid his head from Sansa eventhough she could see his face. His eyes were a shade of soft grey like the morning mist. He handed her a cloak identical to his one. She put it on, covering her gown.

"Pray tell me, good ser," Sansa asked sweetly. "Where are we going?"

"He wasn't supposed to die, Sansa. He was... I'll explain later. Put the hood on."

That was strange. Robert's Kingsguard knights never called her by her first name. She put the hood on and followed the knight as he wandered to Cobbler's Square. A pair of gold cloaks whizzed past the two of them.

"We have to find the traitor's daughter." One said.

"Maybe we might get lucky tonight." the second man replied dreamily.

"The Queen wants her unharmed."

"Who fucking cares? Her blood runs as black as her traitor father. They gonna take her head of anyway."

Sansa couldn't hear the rest of their conversation as she was pulled by the knight.

"Where are we heading?" She asked him.

"Out of this damn city and back home, sweet child."

There was something odd about the man. None of the Kingsuard knights had soft voices like him. Normally they would ignore her greetings and barely even speak to her. Sansa was kind of afraid. Plus King's Landing was the Kingsguard knight's home.

 _I am a Stark of Winterfell. The blood of the First men run through my veins. And a Stark has no fear._

After a long period of walking then reached the Gate of the Gods which lead to the Kingsroad. the knight cursed when he saw two dozen gold cloaks standing there, guarding the gate and monitoring whoever leaves. He then took Sansa by the hand and went in the opposite direction. She was beginning to recognize the man. Ser Meryn Trant was the only knight in the Kingsguard with a red beard.

They narrowly dodged the West Barracks of The City Watch, where they saw Janos Slynt rallying the men. Sansa noticed another fault. For a Kingsguard knight who had served for sixteen years in King's Landing, Ser Meryn was awfully unfamiliar with the roads of the city.

When they were near the Lion Gate, they came across a grim man, thin, with a beardless, pockmarked face. He had a deep set of pale, colorless eyes and hollow cheeks. He was almost completely bald. He wore iron-grey chainmail over boiled leather with a large greatsword worn over his right shoulder. The sword she recognized as Ice, and the man as Ser Ilyn Payne.

The silent knight turned his colorless eyes towards them. Sansa could clearly see that he had recognized them. So did Ser Meryn. He cursed loudly as he charged the Ser Ilyn, drawing his sword and slashing the headsman's throat. He then cut off the strap and took Ice along with it's sheath.

The commotion had attracted the attention of the Gold Cloaks stationed at the Lion's Gate. Most of them headed towards them, pushing against the gathered crowd. Ser Meryn rushed towards Sansa, putting the sheathed Ice in her hand, and rushing her towards the gate, passed the distracted guards.

There were still four gold cloaks there. When one of them noticed Sansa and Ser Meryn heading int the directon of the gate, he shouted to them. "Hey, you."

They stopped cold in their tracks.

"When I give the signal, grab two horses from there." Ser Meryn whispered from the side of his mouth, beckoning with his eyes to a group traders.

When the man was close enough to Ser Meryn, he drew his sword and cut open the man's abdomen, spilling his guts. Figuring this is the signal, Sansa gripped Ice and made a run towards the traders. She knocked one of them out using the hilt of Ice and then mounted one horse and grabbed the reins of the other. She inched both horses nearer to the gate as she looked to see how Ser Meryn was doing.

Ser Meryn had already beheaded the second gold cloak. The third one threw a spear, aiming at the Kinsguard knight's head. He ducked to the side as the spear whizzed past his ears and landed with a thudd behind him. Ser Meryn then stabbed the man in the chest.

The flying spear had put Ser Meryn's hood down and revealed long brown hair. Sansa knew that Ser Meryn never had brown hair. Ser Meryn then drew his dagger in his left hand and threw it at the last gold cloak. it embedded itself in his throat and he died with a noisy gurgle.

The gold cloaks who went to investigate the crowd were now returning back. When Ser Meryn noticed this, he started rushing towards Sansa. When he neared a blacksmith's forge and stabbed his sword at a burning coal. He then threw the burning coal at the nearby Gold Cloak stables, causing the wood to catch fire. He then sprinted towards her.

Ser Meryn mounted the horse admidst the cacophony of noises that were the crowds and the dying horses. He then urged Sansa to go, tearing away her attention from the dying noises. They rode hard towards the gate as they exited King's Landing through the gold road.

"i'm sorry, little one. He wasn't supposed to die. Varys told me so. The queen wanted to tame the wolf not behead it. The dancing master wasn't supposed to die."

Sansa was absolutely confused by what he was saying.

After they were a few leagues down the road, Ser Meryn had them go north. When Sansa asked him why, he smiled at her.

"The Gold road leads to Casterly Rock, dear one. We are heading to the kingsroad which goes to Winterfell."

"We don't have to go to Winterfell." Sansa said "My brother and mother are at Riverrun."

"Cat is at Riverrun?" Ser Meryn asked with vigour.

"You know my mother, Ser Meryn?"

He just chuckled. "I am not Ser Meryn, little one."

He peeled of his face as it were a mask he was wearing, Beneath it was a long face and a closely-trimmed beard is beginning to grey, making him look older than his years. His dark grey eyes were as soft as fog.

" _Father_?"

Sansa began to weep.


	10. The Lion Lord

**Tyrion Lannister**

"THEY HAVE MY SON,"

Tywin Lannister was normally a silent man. Whenever he raised his voice, the room fell silent, just like it was now. Tyrion was made very uncomfortable by the akward silence.

"Out all of you" Tywin said softly. Everyone got off their seats, bowed and left the tent. Tyrion was about to do the same.

"Not you Tyrion and Kevan,"

Tyrion sat down in his seat again.

"You were right about Eddard Stark. If we had him, we could make a suitable trade for your brother."

Tyrion just nodded.

"It seems that we have a new king," Tywin said staring at the letter in his hand.

"A new king? What has happened to Joffrey?" Kevan asked anxiously.

"Nothing has happened to my nephew . . . yet. Renly Baratheon has been declared King at Highgarden and marches with the power of the Reach and the Stormlands to King's Landing." He handed the letter to Tyrion.

 _In the name of King Joffrey Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, I, Cersei Lannister, Queen Regent and Protector of the Realm command Tywin Lannister to march to King's Landing and defend the city against the Usurper Renly Baratheon._

" _Command"_ Tyrion grinned as he handed the letter to Ser Kevan.

"Your sister has become full of herself." Tywin said with distaste, "She has spoiled that boy of her's beyond repair. The things he does shocks me."

"Cersei was always full of herself," Tyrion smiled wider, "she considers herself Tywin Lannister wit teats,"

Tywin just stared at him.

"It seems that we cannot remain here unless we want to surround ourselves with three armies." Kevan said thoughtfully.

"No we aren't. Gregor Clegane and Vargo Hoat will stay here with two hundred men each and set aflame the riverlands from the God's Eye to the Red Fork. The rest of us wil regroup at Duskendale."

"Duskendale? Why not Harrenhal?" Tyrion asked curiously.

"At Harrenhall, we do no0t have access to fresh levies. It is too close to the Stark forces. The fool Edmure Tully may attack us there. Armory Lorch will hold Harrenhal and buy us time for our retreat if Ser Edmure decides to attack."

"What if we give chase to Robett Glover? We can remove half of the Stark forces." Kevan asked thoughtfully.

Tywin shook his head. "Unlikely. Robett Glover is at the Twins by now. If he gets the news that we are chasing him, he will cross the twins and wait north. Walder Frey will grant us crossing to the north but he will close his gates once we cross. Then the crannogmen will reinforce Glover and we will be stuck between two of the most powerful fortresses in the Seven Kingdoms. No, we are better off heading to Duskendale, where we can rally up our troops and join them with Joffrey's."

"Some will say we fled the Stark boy," Tyrion said with a smile.

"The Lion doesn't concern himself with the opinions of the sheep." His father told him sharply. "Both Renly Baratheon and the Stark boy have more men than us. Only a fool will let himself get trapped inbetween the two of them."

"It's only going to get worser for us." Kevan said sadly," Casterly Rock is undefended. If we were there we could hold out for a long time. And Casterly Rock has never been taken. And in Dorne, the Martells howl for Elia and her children. It won't be long before they come into the fold. The Vale will likely support the Starks and the Greyjoys are unlikely to support us. We have run out of allies in Westeros."

"Then we have to look east," Tywin Lannister concluded, "I have already sent Damion Lannister to Pentos in search of sellswords for our cause. The wealth of Casterly Rock will attract sellswords like a fire attracts the moths."

"Sellswords are too fickle to be trusted."

"Yes. That's why Stafford Lannister is building another host at Casterly Rock. I mean to surround the boy in the Riverlands."

"You cannot do that unless you take the Twins and Walder Frey never joins the losing side."

"Aye, that's true." Kevan admitted.

"What about the Queen?" Tyrion asked curiously.

"What of her? She must know better than to _command_ her father to come to her aid."

"Yet she does a botched up job of ruling there. If we want Joffrey to rule the Seven Kingdoms we cannot have her execute anymore hostages."

"That's why I am sending you there."

Tyrion was gobsmacked. "Me? And Pray tell me what I am supposed to do at King's landing?"

"Rule," Tywin said with a note of finality, "You will bring the boy to heel and that mother of his if needs be. We cannot have anymore folly if we were to keep the Seven kingdoms. The small council, if they give you trouble-"

"Heads, spikes, walls," Tyrion finished.

Tywin nodded. "I see that you have picked up some lessons."

"Learnt from the best" Tyrion gave his father his best drunken smile.

Tywin looked at him with distaste.

"Send a raven to Balon Greyjoy, Father. tell him to take as much of the North as possible. The Stark boy has left it undefended. Promise him that he will have a kingdom that he carves from the north."

"You want me to surrender half of Westeros to the Greyjoys. What are we to rule then?"

Tyrion just smiled, "Greyjoy will make a botch of it. Robb Stark will march north to deal with him, leaving us time to deal with Renly."

"Very Well. Send the raven."

Just then a sentry entered the tent.

"Seven Hells," Kevan cursed, "didn't Lord Tywin give the order for us not to be disturbed."

"Forgive me, milord but there has been a rider with urgent news." The sentry passed the message to Tyrion, who was about to pass it to his father. The unbroken seal was in the shape of two blue towers, united by a bridge, on a silver-grey field.

 _House Frey,_ Tyrion thought with distaste

"It says here that a certain Black Walder Frey promises to give us Robb Stark's head if we promise him the Twins." Tywin read."Who is this Black Walder?"

"Second son of Walder Frey's heir Ser Stevron." Kevan answered.

"Small price to pay, Father. If he fails nothing happens to us. But if he succeeds, we remove the most powerful enemy of ours from the field. And you can trap the northeners in the riverlands if you grant Black Walder the twins." Tyrion said.

Tywin remained thoughtful for a very long time.

"Very Well. Send a rider to this Black Walder. Tell him to proceed as he planned," Tywin said.

The sentry nodded and left the tent.


	11. A Man Without Honor

**Robb Stark**

Robb sat at the godswood in Riverrun, leaning against the heart tree. At his side was Jon Snow. He wanted to cry. He wanted to mourn his father. But even now he remained a Stark of Winterfell. The tears just froze in his heart, making it harder/

"I never thought the Lannisters would kill Father after we captured the Kingslayer." Jon said softly.

"It seems that the bastard Joffrey doesn't really care for his uncle as much as his mother does."

"Aye. If what Stannis Baratheon claims is true, the kingslayer is actually his father and he is nothing but a bastard born of incest. He doesn't have any claim to the throne."

"Stannis Baratheon tells the true tale, I fear. It seems that our lord father was executed because he found out about it. The former hand Jon Arryn as well."

"Speaking of the Arryns, have you sent a raven to your Aunt Lysa yet?"

"More than a dozen. It seems that she wants to cower in the Vale."

"Lord Eddard grew up at the Eyrie. Have no fear, Robb. The Lords of the Vale will support us, Lysa Arryn or no." Jon said reassuringly.

"Do you know the Arryn words, Jon?"

" _As high as honor_ ,"

"The Lords of the Vale won't join us unless Lysa Arryn commands them to."

Jon fell silent after that as they brooded on their father's death.

"I think we should march on Tywin Lannister" Jon said, "He is already weakened by Robett Glover. With the riverlords we outnumber them three-to-one."

"Tywin Lannister is the most battle-hardened commander in the Seven Kingdoms. He would welcome such an assault. And to confront Lord Tywin we have to cross the river. Our men will be exhausted while the Lannisters stand there fresh and ready." Robb shook his head." No we are better of staying in the riverlands and cutting off Lord Tywin from fresh levies and supplies from the westerlands. For now."

Jon looked up at that. "What do you have in mind?"

Robb looked up into the night sky. "We will pillage the westerlands. It will give us resources and gold for our campaign. If we are lucky, Lord Tywin might be drawn there and we can ambush him."

The silence at the godswood was disturbed as Robb heard rushed footsteps. A party of eight knights and men-at-arms rushed into their view. They were lead by a tall, wiry man with a black beard. All the men had two blue towers united by a bridge on silver-grey. _The sigil of House Frey_.

"Black Walder, To what do we owe this pleasure?" Jon asked him.

"We have come here to pray, my lord." Black Walder's raspy voice raised Robb's suspicions.

"I thought the Freys kept the faith of the Seven." Jon's hand went to his swordbelt.

"Aye, and we mean to offer your head to the Stranger." Black Walder raised his hand and all the knights charged.

The first man was too slow on the draw. Robb easily ran him through and shifted left, dodging the second man's haphzard attack. He then put his sword through the eye of the man. Robb saw a third man charging him with a large greatsword in his hand. Robb tried to yank his sword out of the dead man's head but it wouldn't budge. The swing came down at Robb hard, but he ducked to his left, letting the greatsword whistle past his head and shred the tip of his hair. Robb then drew his dagger with his left hand and rammed it into his throat. His dagger embedded itself in the man's throat. Robb saw Jon fighting two knights at the same time. But before he could aide his brother, another figure blocked his way

This man in front of him wore the best armor of them all.

"Explain this madness, Frey." Robb fumed angrily.

The response he got was a grunt as Black Walder charged the weaponless Robb _._ Robb danced to his left, dodging the Frey's attack. He picked up a greatsword from a fallen knight. The next attack that Black Walder threw was a direct swing, aiming for Robb's head. Robb brought the greatsword and met the attack. Their steel sung across the godswood as they repeatedly crashed onto one another. Robb's felt his movements were slower because of the weight of the greatsword that he was wielding, which evened out with Black Walder's subpar fighting skills. Blsck Walder the swung his sword once again, aiming to slice his waist. Robb just stepped back and jabbed the greatsword into his knee. Walder bellowed as he collapsed to the ground.

"Yield, Traitor."

"Never."

He brought his blade up to meet Robb's next swing. The greatsword cut the Walder's blade clean.

"Yield," Robb said more forcefully.

"I yield, I yield..." Walder whimpered patheticaly.

Robb looked to Jon, who just shrugged and then sent a heavy backhand blow to Black Walder's face, sending him to darkness.


	12. A Heart As Black As Your Name

**Jon Snow**

Jon stood beneath Robb's shadow with Ghost as he carefully observed the proceedings. Robb was seated on the high chair in the Great Hall of Riverrun and his lords bannermen enveloped him. Grey Wind stood next to him.

"Ser Stevron, eldest son of Lord Walder Frey and heir to the Twins." The herald announced in a loud booming tone.

A short, old weaselly man stepped forward and went on his knees. He was accompanied by many simmilar looking men that Jon could only assume that they were more of Lord Walder's brood. "Your Grace," he spoke in gravelly courteos tones. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this summons."

 _There is nothing about pleasure in this summons, old man_

"You are here to answer for the crimes of your House, my lord." Robb responded cooly.

Shock descended amongst the lords gathered. Ser Stevron's face paled. Jon could see the shock plain on his face.

 _He had no idea._

"WHAT?!" The Greatjon bellowed, "Whatever the crime is, it must be answered to, Your Grace. Give the word and I will spill his guts to the floor."

Ser Stevron paled even more.

"Thank you for the offer, my lord, but if there is anything I learned from my lord father, it was to give every man a fair trial." Robb raised his hand.

Dacey Mormont brought forth a savagely beaten man in plate-and-mail from behind Robb and threw him at his feet. He had the Twins embroidered on his chest. He raised his loody head up and it was not long before everyone present had discerned his identity. The Freys all stood up abruptly.

"TREACHERY!" Ser Hosteen Frey stepped forward, drawing his sword.

The hall leaped into action. Jon's drew his sword in response and the rest of the lords followed suit in a few seconds. But none of this frightened Ser Hosteen as much as Robb's direwolf staring at him. Ghost let out a low growl.

"Drop your sword, ser and ii might let you leave with your head." Jon pointed his sword at the Hosteen's neck.

"Drop your sword, boy, at I might let _you_ leave with your head."

Ser Stevron was the first to react. "Drop your sword, Hosteen. King Robb has allowed us the right to a fair trial. The honor of the Starks is known throughout the Seven Kingdoms."

 _This one is smarter than he looks._

"Walder of House Frey." Jon started in a severe tone. "The charges presented against you are assault and attempted murder against our King. How do you plead?"

"Guilty," Black Walder said in a soft whisper.

Chaos erupted across the hall.

"Kill the Traitor."

"Hang the man"

"The turncloak doesn't deserve a quick death. Let me flay the skin and make a cloak for you."

The noises echoed across the walls as the lords argued on creative ways to punish the traitor until Robb raised his hand to silence them.

"Now, my lords, before we sentence this turncloak, I would like to know his motive. Speak Black Walder and it may save you your head."

"I offered Tywin Lannister, Lord Of Casterly Rock and Warden of The West, my services to kill King Robb Stark and leave the Northern Army leaderless and easy picking for the Lannisters. In return I asked for the title of Lord Of The Crossing and Lord Tywin was generous enough to offer me the title Lord Paramount of The Trident. When my wish was granted I put my plan into action."

A cacophony of voices erupted again but this time Robb was quicker in silencing them.

Robb stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What of your kin, Frey? Were any of them involved?"

"I was alone in this act and I called upon the twelve knights Lord Frey gave in my command. None of my kin knew of my betrayal. This I swear by the Light of The Seven."

"Do not dare profane the new gods with your oath, Frey." Lord Jason Mallister warned vehemently.

"Before I grant the sentence, I would like to announce that all betrothals between House Stark and Frey are now broken along with every agreement made with House Frey. Theon, take four hundred northern men and reinforce Twins. Ser Hosteen Frey will accompany you."

Everyone in the hall cheered, the riverlords being the loudest.

 _The Freys have no love, even amongst their own native rivermen,_ Jon noticed.

Ser Stevron went on his knee again, "Your Grace, My grandson has commited a great crime but I beg of you to have mercy. He is of my blood. At least sentence him to the Wall."

Robb stood up. Jon could see that his face was made of steel resolve.. "Walder of House Frey. I Robb Stark, King In The North And The Trident, Lord Protector of the Realm, Lord Of Winterfell, Shield of the White Knife sentence you to death by hanging. As an act of mercy, your sentence will be carried out on the morrow, at dawn. You have until then to say farewell to your kin."

Black Walder hung his head in shame as he and the Freys were about to leave the hall. But before that Roose Bolton stepped before the chair and bent his knee.

 _What does the Leech Lord want now?_

"Your Grace, I beg you of the honor of carrying out this sentence."

Robb looked abashed at the request but granted it nevertheless. The Freys left the hall in silence

Robb remained seated.

"Unfortunately ladies and gentlemen, that is not the only Frey we have to deal with today. Bring forth the next one."

"Ser Cleos Frey, Son of Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister." The herald announced.

A wiry man was brought in chains to the middle of the hall. He was dressed in the faded crimson and red of House Lannister.. His wiry faced was overrun by worry lines. His hair was almost fully grey.

"Ser Cleos Frey. I was under the impression that House Frey had completely declared for the Starks and yet this one dresses in the colors of Lannnister." Rickard Karstark said

"Emmon Frey has declared himself for the Lannisters, my lords." Jon informed them.

"Ser Cleos," Robb continued ignoring the sidetalk. "I am sending you down to the Lannisters with my peace terms. I want my sisters back. The betrothal between Sansa and Joffrey is now at end. My Father's body must also be returned, so that he can be buried within the crypts at Winterfell. The Stark ancestral sword Ice must be returned along with him. And Lastly the Iron Throne holds no dominion over the Riverlands and the North. If Joffrey or any other Lannister steps into my dominion I will send them back in two pieces."

The Northern lords and the Riverlords cheered.

"Your…Your Grace…These are…" Cleos stuttered.

"These are my terms." Robb stood up. "If the Lannisters withold them I will give them peace. If not-" Grey Wind howled lowly. "- I will litter the south with Lannnister dead."

The hall fell into chaos once again.

 **A/N: If you guys have noticed I have skipped the part where Robb was declared King as I do not want to write anymore chapters that follow canon to the tooth. If you guys have read** _ **A Game Of Thrones**_ **you will know that the "KING IN THE NORTH" scene was perfect and I feel that I cannot add anything else to that. Also I have been thinking of changing the title of the story. Please PM me with your ideas so that I can create a poll ASAP and then get the favorite title.**

 **UPDATE:SORRY FOR THE INCONVINIENCE I CAUSED BY UPLOADING THE WRONG DOCUMENT.**

 **CHEERS**


	13. Our Blades Are Sharp

**Black Walder Frey**

He was disappointed in himself. He should have known better.

Black Walder had just said his farewells to his kin. He could plainly see the disappointment in their faces. Specially his grandfather's. A plain drunken decision is going to cost him his life. He imagined what his great-grandfather Lord Frey would say when he heard about his betrayal.

" _My brood is good for nothing but trouble."_ He would say in a raspy voice while fondling his young wife.

The worst part was that the Leech Lord had been given the responsibility to hang him. Walder had been always creeped out by the pale milky eyes of Roose Bolton.

Black Walder walked into the woods with his head down. He was flanked on all sides by Bolton men. The pink flayed man banner was carried high in the sky. Roose Bolton had forbaded any Frey from coming and witnessing the hanging, so Walder was alone with the strangers.

He could still hear his grandfather Ser Stevron's voice. _"What were you thinking? We just saw Robb Stark defeat the Kingslayer in single combat and your response is to take only twelve men against him? You are even more stupider than Hosteen."_

Remembering Hosteen Frey brought upon another feeling of sadness. Out of all the Freys present in his trial only Hosteen had moved to try and avenge him. And for that he had been sent back to the Twins with Greyjoy. Walder knew that Hosteen would be devastated by this as killing men was the only thing he was good at.

His father's reaction would be even worser. Ser Ryman was currently with Robett Glover somewhere north of the Twins. Many men considered Ser Ryman to be weak but Black Walder knew that the man was capable of nothing but cruelty. His brother Edwyn, who was with his father, would no doubt be happy when he hears of Walder's plight. He had always hated Walder after Walder bedded his wife.

He remembered Gatehouse Ami, Fair Walda and her teats and every other Frey he had slept with. He remembered Lady Annara Farring, Lord Frey's seventh wife, who he slept with. She had been reluctant at first, but then eventually came to his bed willingly. She had died birthing his son. He prayed to the Seven for her soul and his, knowing all the black deeds he had done to earn his moniker.

The Bolton men said nothing as they marched silently to Walder's death. He wondered whether Roose Bolton had ripped their tongues off because none of them made even the slightest sound. Lord Bolton was right at the front of the entourage striding silently.

 _I could've done worse. The Greatjon wanted to rip me apart piece by piece and feed me to the hounds._

His mind turned back to the time he defeated Lord Renly Baratheon in a joust at the tourney of Lannisport. His great-grandfather never admitted it but Walder remembered seeing a glint of approval in his long drawn face. He always cherished that memory as he considered himself the best of all Freys. Lame Lothar may be the smartest and Hosteen may be the strongest, but he was the perfect balance. But none of that mattered now where he was going.

 _We are marching too far_ , Walder realized. _They want to hang me. But I saw a thousand trees that are well capable for the task._

He looked to the man next to him.

"Where are we going?"

The man didn't utter a word.

"Where are we going?" Walder repeated.

The man behind him butted Walder with his spear and signalled for him to be silent.

Roose Bolton raised his hand and gave the order for the men to halt. Walder looked around wondering which tree would he hand from. His attention was drawn to a wooden device that was shaped like an "X". The men started to tie Walder's hand and legs to the ends of the mechanism.

"Stop." Walder said, "This was not what your king told you to do."

"Our King In The North is a little boy, Frey." Roose Bolton spoke in a soft voice. "He may have a good mind for warfare, but he has a soft heart. So I feel the need to help him now."

Roose Bolton whipped out a small flaying knife. The Flayed Man of House Bolton was engraved on it's hilt. Walder noticed that the hilt was made of human flesh.

"The Starks outlawed flaying." Walder said in a soft voice, trying to reassure himself.

"Aye they did." Roose Bolton smiled a grin so terrifying Walder almost shit his pants."But that doesn't mean it is not still practiced in the north. Family Traditions must be kept."

"The King will find out about this."

Roose Bolton just shrugged. "Now you will tell me where Tywin Lannister was when you sent him your message."

"I don't know..."

"Wrong answer." Lord Bolton jabbed his knife into Walder and pulled it out, causing a fountain of blood to gush out of his wound.

Walder just grunted, refusing to allow Roose Bolton the pleasure of seeing him scream.

 _You think I will scream like I'm your bitch. Nay, for my heart is as black as my name._

"Your tougher than I thought, I'll give you that."

Roose Bolton brought his blade to Walder's small finger and sliced upwards, peeling off a bit of skin and exposing Walder's insides to the atmosphere.

Walder just screamed.


	14. All Men Must Serve

**Sansa Stark**

Sansa stared at the dwindling fire in front of her. Her sister Arya was sleeping snugly next to her father. Her father was on watch duty, guarding the three from any unwelcome strangers.

Sansa had been unable to sleep ever since they got out of King's Landing. The sight of her father switching faces was enough to terrorize her dreams for the rest of her life.

 _What if the man was not Father? What if he is just wearing Father's face._

She tried to clear her mind off all these thoughts and sleep. But these thoughts still terrorized her dreams even after she fell asleep.

The next morning when she woke up, her father had two rabbits roasted on a spit for breakfast. She was unable to enjoy it with the terrible thoughts that constantly crossed her mind.

One look at Arya, and Sansa knew that she was completely the opposite. Arya looked like she was actually enjoying this expedition. Out of the three Starks, she was the one who ate the most. Their Father had allowed both of them to carry swords as he said that they should be able to defend themselves. Only Arya was overjoyed to hear this.

"We must leave now, girls." Her father spoke in solemn tones, "The smoke from the campfire may have drawn some attention."

"Yer bet yer arse it did." A raspy voice camp from the bushes, it's owner stepping out of it. He was a middle-aged bald man, bearing a sword and a shield. He was accompanied by two other men, one comely and another with a hideously burnt face carrying a spear.

"Don't worry." The pretty one said. "I am Ser Lorne of Hornhill. I serve Lord Randyll of House Tarly. We will let you leave in peace in the name of King Renly Baratheon. But only if we can have this one first." He pointed at Sansa. She stepped behind her father.

"Yer gonna feel this, lassie." The first man said, groping his crotch.

"I'm afraid not, ser." Her father drew Ice from it's sheath. "In the name of Robb Stark, King In The North and The Trident and Lord of Winterfell, I ask you to lay down your weapons. If not, I will carve your heart and feed it to the crows."

The first man laughed. "You? Alone?"

"Don't mock him, Reas." Ser Lorne warned. Sansa could see a drip of fear in his eyes. "The blade he bears is Valyrian Steel."

"So?" Reas laughed, "The Others take his Valyrian Steel. We'll sell it off after we kill him and rape his daughters. There are three of us."

"Then three lives shall be offered to the many-faced god." Ned Stark hefted his blade.

 _Many-faced God? What happened to Father._

Reas drew his sword and charged. Ned danced to his left, letting the charge move harmlessly. The man with a burnt face jabbed his spear at Ned, aiming for his chest. Sansa's heart leaped as her father deflected the blow with Ice and moved to the side. Reas tried to surprise him by charging him from behind, but Ned drew his dagger with his left arm and threw it at Reas' swordarm. The man screamed and dropped his sword. Arya then drew her sword and hacked Reas' head off, spraying both her and Sansa with blood. Sansa screamed.

The scream distracted Ned, who was engaging both Ser Lorne and the burnt man. The man with the burned face drove his spear straight into Ned's swordarm, whilst Ser Lorne's sword embedded itself in Ned's armor. He just grunted in response as he cut Ice horizontally in a deadly arc, opening the bellies of both Ser Lorne and the burnt man. Both of them collapsed.

Her father then drove Ice into the eye of the burnt man and turned to face Ser Lorne.

"Please...mercy, my lord. Lord Randyll will pay...Yes, he will pay a lot of gold for his favorite knight..." Ser Lorne cried.

"I have no need of your gold." The voice that came from her father's mouth scared Sansa.

"Who...Who are you?"

"I am Eddard Stark, Former Lord of Winterfell and Hand Of The King. And now you will die."

"Please no...Mercy..."

He got none.

Sansa's father drove his blade into the knight's heart.

 _"Valar Morghulis."_ He said as he collapsed onto the floor.


	15. Fever Dream

**Eddard Stark**

 _He saw the face of Syrio Forel._

 _"Lord Stark, you will bear the face of Ser Meryn Trant, the way I showed you to. But if it all goes wrong at the trial, take your daughters and leave the city. But beware, the many-faced god will take his due. Offer three souls in your place for him. And when you kill them you must utter the words. Valar Morghulis."_

 _"Don't worry, Lord Hand." Varys had reassured him. "Nothing will happen to Syrio Forel. The King plans to pardon you. This is just in case something goes wrong."_

 _Curse the damn Liar._

It faded into darkness and when the light reappeared, Ned was standing in front of Yoren.

 _"Give me Arya Stark, my lord."_

 _" 'fraid not, Ser Meryn. That lass is my responsibility." Yoren spat._

 _Ned had peeled of Ser Meryn's and revealed his._

 _"What the fuck is that? What kind of sorcery have you done."_

 _"I want my daughter."_

 _"Take her and be damned."_

 _It would have been easier if you just submitted to me..._

Ned was pulled away again.

 _"Promise me, Ned...Promise me..."_

All fell into darkness.

 _A woman walked in the distance in a field of grass towards Ned. As she walked the grass all withered and died. Snow began to descend. Ned saw that her skin was pale as ice and mottled. She had shiny blue eyes. She neared him and put a hand on Ned's face. The hand was so cold, he was unable to move. The air was thick with mist so he couldn't see her face._

 _"WINTER IS COMING FOR US ALL, KING STARK."_

 _The Mist cleared and Ned screamed._

The scene shifted.

 _A white wolf stood amongst the Snow. He was surrounded by five grey wolves, two females and three males. All of a sudden, the white wolf burst forth and a red dragon leaped into the skies, burning all the snow with his flames. Another dragon was suddenly visible in the skies and then came a third and fourth. The First Dragon faded into ice as the second and third dissapear. The Last Dragon descended on the wolves and devoured everything in one large gulp. He hissed at Ned as the flames devoured the world around him._

Ned woke up with a start.

He saw the concerned faces of both his daughters.

"Father, All you alright?" Arya said as she clasped him in a bear hug.

"Yes, my child." His wound had been bandaged.

"How in the?"

"Pardon me, milord" Ned turned to see the guilty face of Gendry, Robert's bastard. "I followed you here."

"I have nothing but gratitude for that. If not for you I might be dead now, and my daughters would be alone."

Gendry bowed in response.

Ned couldn't take his mind away from what he had seen in his dreams.

"We have to get to Robb as soon as possible." Ned looked around and noticed that they have moved. "Where are we?"

"We just passed the God's Eye, milord."

Ned was shocked. The boy had carried him for more than a two days journey.

"Father, We saw the Lannisters marching with all haste." Sansa said.

"Where were they headed?" Ned asked, alarmed.

"South, milord." Gendry replied courteously. "Lord Tywin was leading them."

 _Robb has the lions on the back foot._

"Lad, Do you know where King Robb is?"

Gendry scratched his head. "We heard some Lannisters say that the Young Wolf is at Riverrun, milord"

"A fortnight away." Ned muttered.

There was a sudden pang in his arm. He saw that the wound was bleeding again.

"We must get moving." Ned stood up. He saw spots dancing about his eyes, he nearly collapsed.

"Milord, you need more rest."

"There is no time to rest."

There was al large sound.

 _ARRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

"A warhorn."

ARRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Then he saw it in the horizon. A column of mounted knights charging towards them. They were led by a large man in black armor. The ground vibrated with such an intensity that Ned almost lost his footing. All the lances levelled as they charged. The men hadn't noticed them yet.

Ned cursed as he saw the three dogs banner of House Clegane flapping in the air.

 **A/N: I have decided to change the title of the story to** _ **Robb Stark: Protector of the Realm.**_ **If anyone has any better ideas, feel free to drop me a PM with it. I will be changing the title by the end of the week.**


	16. The Disgraced Lion

**Jaime Lannister**

He was no longer Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard. He was no longer the Kingslayer. He was just a man covered in his own shit.

 _I got defeated by a boy._

All the pride and arrogance that was natural to a Lannister had been drained away from his time in the cell. The only thought that kept him warm was Cersei.

 _Cersei._

Everything he did was always for her. He gave up his status as heir to Casterly Rock to be with her. He joined the Kingsguard and went celibate for her. He incurred the wrath of his father just to be with her. And now, he ate the horse shit that his guard brought everyday, just to see her again.

Who was he now. A Lannister? The Kingslayer? A sister-loving freak? No, he was merely a man covered in his own shit. A man beaten by a boy. _A Lion beaten by a wolf._

He wondered what his father would be doing. It was commonly known that Lord Tywin loved his eldest son more than the rest.

 _And what have I done with his love? Spat it in his face when I took the vows of a Kingsguard. Ned Stark had the right of it._

Jaime spent most of his time wallowing in self-pity. Just a few months ago, the name Jaime Lannister brought upon an image of the greatest swordfighter in the Seven Kingdoms. But now, he will forever be remembered as the man who was beaten by the boy. Wonder what Arthur Dayne would have said if he heard that.

Jaime always idolized the Sword Of The Morning. The boy he was always wanted to be Ser Arthur Dayne but somewhere along the way he had ended up like the Smiling Knight of the Kingswood Brotherhood.

He remembered of a time where he squired for Lord Sumner Crakehall along with Merret Frey. Merret Muttonhead, they call him now. One blow to his head and he couldn't fight again. There he was happy. Fighting in the morning and bedding his sister at night.

A sudden intrusion drew his attention away from his thoughts. It was the boy he who defeated him.

"Ser Jaime Lannister." Robb Stark said with a smile.

"The King In The North."

"Aye, that's what they call me now. I wonder what they call you, _Kingslayer._ "

"Some colorful names, no doubt. You Northeners are creative."

"When Lord Tywin gets here, they will lose all their creativity with their heads."

Robb just laughed. "Your Father has fled south to King's Landing. The Kingslayer still expects his father to save him. I'm afraid he has to worry about Renly Baratheon more than he worries about you."

"Renly Baratheon?"

"Renly Baratheon marches on King's Landing as we speak. He will have your sister's pretty head on a spike." _Good lord._

"What about Stannis?"

Robb Stark scratched his chin. "We had a raven from Dragonstone. Stannis Baratheon says that Joffrey is not of Robert's blood. He is your bastard son."

 _Good Gods._ "That makes him the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. How convinient."

"My brother found you and your sister together. That's why you pushed him off the tower."

"That's ridico..."

Robb continued, ignoring Jaime. "My lord father lost his head because of he found out about it."

"You know, I keep expecting you to keep me with one of your bannermen but you drag me along everywhere you go. Have you grown fond of me? Should I open my legs for you?" Jaime relished the discomfort on the boy's face.

"If I leave you with one of my bannermen, within a fortnight your father will find out. And then the said bannerman will get a message from the ferocious Lord Tywin Lannister, _Give me my boy back and you will be rich beyond your dreams, don't and, your House will be destroyed Root and Stem._ And then the bannerman will send your father your head. You know how we northeners are."

"Smart Boy." Jaime said with respect. He saw the Young Wolf's face change. "What's the matter, boy? Feel insulted."

Jaime heard a low growl from behind him.

"You insult yourself, _Kingslayer._ You are the one who had been defeated by a boy." A shadow moved in the dark behind Jaime. Since he was shackled he couldn't see what it was. A soft thud rippled on the floor with every footstep. The beast came into view. It had smoke-grey skin and lean figure. It's eyes glittered in the darkness. Another low growl escaped it's throat. Jaime felt a wetness in his pants. He was not only covered in his own sht, he also wet his pants in front of a boy.

The beast was only an inch away from his face now.

"Don't worry, Kingslayer, Grey Wind can smell your fear. And I can smell your piss." He left leaving Jaime alone with the direwolf. Jaime closed his eyes in fear as he heard the jaws of the beast close just in front of his neck.

 _Am I dead?_

Jaime opened his eyes and found his cell empty. And then it overwhelmed him. He could no longer hold it in.

Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard, Son of Lord Tywin Lannister began to weep.


	17. The Hungry Wolf

**Catelyn Stark**

She stared at his pale face as he muttered incoherently.

"Tansy...forgive me, sweet child... I had no choice..."

 _Tansy? Did Father have a bastard._

Catelyn thought it unlikely. If it was her brother Edmure, she would have believed it, but Lord Hoster Tully was always an honorable man. Yet now he laid dying, with Catelyn unable to do anything. His once colorful face had faded into a pale milky white color. His once powerful shoulders now lay limp, unable to move.

Lord Hoster had grown so weak that he could no longer see Catelyn. He always called her by her mother's name "Minisa...Minisa...". He was so delirous he could no longer see the present and he lived in the past.

 _How could you have grown so weak? How couldn't I know?_

"Daemon...Minisa, I'm so sorry... I never meant to..."

Catelyn stroked his head softly. "Father, It is Cat."

"Cat... Good Gods... You look so much like her... He looks so much like me... Forgive me, Minisa... Forgive me." He was so tired.

"My lady," Maester Vyman appeared from the shadows. "Lord Tully has to have his rest. Some dreamwine to help him sleep."

Maester Vyman poured the dreamwine gently down Lord Hoster's frothing mouth. One Hoster Tully was fast asleep, he bowed and exited the room. Catelyn remained, wondering how long her father could fight this battle. Lord Hoster had always been a powerful man but some battles can never be won.

"Sister." Edmure was standing at the door. "The King wishes to see you."

Catelyn stood up from her seat and gave her father a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Wait for me, Father. Wait for me..."

She took her brother's offered hand and left the room.

"You have missed quite alot, sister. There has been an attempt at the King's life."

"Robb? Good Gods, Edmure. How is he?"

"Safe. It was Black Walder who did it. He has already been hanged." Edmure smiled at his sister, "Nothing to worry about. King Robb is perfectly fine."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"King's orders. He didn't want to disturb you." Edmure walked swiftly with Catelyn struggling to keep up.

"What has Robb done about it?"

"He has broken his and Arya' bethrotals to the Freys."

Her son was too smart. "And?"

"Theon Greyjoy heads to the Twins with four hundred men to augment the northern garrison there and discourage rebellion. He has already left, taking Ser Hosteen Frey with him." Edmure looked straight forward.

"Any other news?" Catelyn asked hopefully.

"No." Edmure looked worriedly at his sister. "Don't worry, Cat. I'm sure Sansa and Arya are fine. The Lannisters wouldn't want the Kingslayer to lose his head."

"They executed Ned, Edmure. We cannot say what the Lannisters would do next."

They spent rest of the walk silent. They found Robb in the Riverrun solar, staring intently at a map whie fingering a wolf piece. Catelyn couldn't believe how much her son had grown. He had a neatly trimmed beard and long auburn hair that fell to his shoulders. He turned and smiled and Catelyn decided that he must be some hero from a song.

"Mother."

Edmure bowed and left the room.

"How come you didn't call me Robb?" Catelyn asked worriedly. "You were almost killed."

"You mean Black Walder was almost killed." Robb said with a chuckle.

"You know what I mean Robb. Why didn't you tell me?"

Robb's face became solemn. "I didn't know how long your father had. I didn't want to take you away from him."

"Yet now you do." Catelyn said.

"Now it is serious." Robb's tone was solemn and uncharacteristic of him. "I am leaving for Bitterbridge, Mother."

Catelyn was flabbergasted. "What?"

"I have to treat with Renly Baratheon. He has the strongest army in the Seven Kingdoms. If we make common cause with him, we maybe able to defeat the Lannisters."

"But Robb... By the time you march south, Renly would already be at King's Landing."

"I am not taking the army. Only a hundred men."

Catelyn nodded. "Who will you give the command of the army."

Robb looked down. "Jon Snow."

"The Bastard." Catelyn said vehemently, "My brother is more than capable for the task. What about my uncle, Ser Brynden. He has the experience from wars."

"I'm taking Ser Brynden and his outriders with me, Mother. I don't want the Lannisters to know of my movements. Your Brother, on the other hand, has been given the task of sweeping the riverlands of Lannisters. He cannot do that and control the nothern army. Besides a notherner follows no one except their own. Jon Snow is the best choice."

"What about the Greatjon or Roose Bolton. Any northern bannermen can command the army." Catelyn pleaded desperately.

"There is no one I trust as much as Jon Snow. He will have the army." Robb said with a note of finality. Catelyn knew that there was no arguing about it.

"What about me?" Catelyn asked.

"You will remain here with your father."

Robb turned to leave the solar.


	18. The Lord Captain

**Victarion Greyjoy**

Victarion inhaled the fresh salty air as he looked around him. It has been a long time since he has been home. He observed the bustling Lordsport, filled with merchants bustling about restlessly. Victarion could not remember ever seeing the seat of House Botley this crowded. He looked around and saw that the reassembled Iron Fleet, a hundred ships carrying banners bearing a golden kraken on a black field, the sigil of House Greyjoy. Victarion couldn't the feeling of joy. Almost ten years of nothing but trading across the Seven Kingdoms and now his brother had called the banners. He was ready for war.

He spotted an escort heading towards him. They were lead by a tall, thin man dressed in roughspun wool dyed in green, grey and blue, the colors of the Drowned God. His black hair and beard were up to his waist.

"Brother." Victarion said kindly. Aeron Greyjoy did nothing in response except pull out a waterskin. Victarion went on his knees.

Aeron began to pour the seawater from the waterskin onto Victarion's head. Victarion felt the salty water burn his eyes as it dribbled down his face.

Aeron began to speak. "Let Victarion, your servant be born again from the sea, as you were. Bless him with salt, bless him with stone, bless him with steel."

"What is dead may never die." Victarion said solemnly.

"What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger".

Victarion stood up and shook his brother's offered hand.

"It's good to have you back, Lord Captain."

Victarion just nodded. Aeron then led them to a small tavern where they brought horses for the long journey to Pyke.

"Lordsport is more crowded than I remember." Victarion admitted

Aeron spoke while saddling his horse. "Lord Balon has forbade any of the merchants from leaving the isles. He doesn't want the wolves and the lions to know that the Kraken has awakened."

 _The Kraken has awakened._

"What of Theon?" Victarion asked, "Does Balon no longer care for his own blood? Or are we to side with the green Stark boy?"

Aeron Damphair's face soured even more which Victarion thought was impossible. "Balon will discuss that at today's feast."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. After a long period of silence, the seat of House Greyjoy came to view. Pyke was originally built on a cliff jutting out into the sea, but over time the cliff had eroded, leaving the castle's keeps and towers standing on three barren islands and a dozen small stacks of rock, surrounded by water. The towers were connected by swaying rope bridges. The keep, its towers, and walls were made of the same grey-black stone of which the rest of the island was composed. In the thousands of years the castle has stood, it has become covered with green lichen. Victarion felt a feeling of nostalgia as he stared at his childhood home.

He was given his old chambers at the Sea Tower. He wore his normal armor consisting of boiled black leather, heavy grey chain mail, and lobstered plate, with his helm is in the shape of a kraken. He carried his axe, since there was no saying how violent an ironborn feast would turn out. He put on his cloak, which was made of nine layers of gold cloth sewn like the kraken of his House with its arms reaching his boots.

When he reached the Great Hall and fund that they had already started without him. His eldest brother was seated upon the Seastone Chair. Balon had always been thin, but now he was gaunt with a hard face. He had hard black eyes with long grey hair flecked with white that hanged past the small of his back. Victarion assumed a seat just below the Seastone chair, in between Nute the Barber and Andrik the Unsmiling.

A herald was reading out a letter.

" _In the name of Joffrey of House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of The Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms I comand you Balon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands, Lord Reaper of Pyke, Son of the Sea Wind, command you to wage war with House Stark in the North and claim all their castles. It is my decree that you shall get to keep these lands as yours, if you still pay fealty to the Iron Throne._ Signed _Tywin Lannister, Hand of The King, Lord Of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, Warden if the West._ "

"I think you must take it, my lord." Rodrik the Reader spoke.

"Take it?" Balon fumed, "I am Balon Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, _King of Salt and Rock_ , Son of the Sea Wind, and no man commands me to take lands. I pay the iron price. I will take my crown, as Urron Redhand did five thousand years ago."

The hall erupted in cheers.

"I have a mind to carve a nice share of the North. Who is there to oppose us? The lords are gone south with the pup. Those who remained behind are the cravens, old men, and green boys. They will yield or fall, one by one. Winterfell may defy us for a year, but what of it? The rest shall be ours, forest and field and hall, and we shall make the folk our thralls and salt wives."

"And the waters of wrath will rise high, and the Drowned God will spread his dominion across the green lands!" Aeron Damphair added.

"What is dead can never die." Victarion chanted.

"Victarion," Balon continued. "You have the most important task. Sail the Iron fleet up Saltspear and the Fever River. From there it is a quick march to Moat Cailin. Take that and we can hold the Young Wolf if he decides to come howling home."

"I shall not fail you, Brother." Victarion said solemnly.

Balon nodded. "Asha, You will take Deepwood Motte. Dagmer, you are to take Winterfell and Castle Cerwyn once we have enough men."

"What is dead may never die." Dagmer Cleftjaw said with a horrid smile.

 _Beware Lions and Wolves,_ Victarion thought, _for the Kraken has come to play the game of thrones._


	19. King's Landing

**Tyrion Lannister**

"Out, all of you."

Oh, how Tyrion missed his beautiful sister.

"You." She pointed at him when everyone had left the room. "How did you convince Father to do this?"

"Convince?" Tyrion grinned at her. "If I could convince Father, I would rule the world. No, I'm afraid you and that golden boy of yours have brought this on yourselves."

Cersei stared at the paper. "I could declare this forgery and have your head removed. Ned Stark had a paper and look how much it helped him."

"The reason we are in this mess is because of what you did to Ned Stark." Tyrion reminded her.

Cersei was silent for a long time. Tyrion couldn't help but notice that she looked very beautiful when she wasn't cursing him to the seven hells. He could almost, _almost_ , see what his brother Jaime saw in her.

"We didn't execute Ned Stark." Cersei said softly.

"What?"

"It was a faceless man disguised as Ned Stark. Ned Stark escaped the capital a week ago."

Tyrion was gobsmacked. "You managed to let him go? His sixteen year old son, a green boy with no prior battle experience has defeated us at every battle save one. Ned Stark is a veteran commander from the War Of The Usurper. Some say that he is the reason King Robert won his rebellion. Now imagine what the Northeners would be capable of with Eddard Stark."

Cersei was just silent. It was uncharacteristic of her to remain silent whenever Tyrion spoke to her. He calmly exhaled, trying to guess what she was thinking.

"But I'm told that we hold two of his daughters."

Cersei looked down. "Not anymore."

"Not anymore?"

"Ned Stark took his daughters with him."

Tyrion was now truly shocked. "How? I thought we had them under guard day and night."

"We never had Arya under us. She escaped the moment we seized Ned Stark."

"And Sansa?"

"Lord Stark was disguised as Ser Meryn of the Kingsguard, who was given the responsibility of taking care of her. They escaped amidst the confusion at Baelor's sept, killing Ser Illyn Payne and four gold cloaks."

 _Shouldn't have expected anything less from the man who defeated Ser Arthur Dayne in single combat._

Tyrion smiled at his sister. "Father is going to be so displeased with you, sweet sister."

She just stared at him with contempt.

"I asked Father to come with his army and save this god-forsaken city from Renly Baratheon and he sends me you."

Tyrion shook his head. "You didn't ask, sweet sister. You _commanded._ And we both know that Father doesn't respond well to commands. Now shall we call the Small Council meeting or have some more fun family 'conversation'?"

Cersei Lannister called the small a few moments later.

Tyrion eyed every member carefully.

Grand Maester Pycelle had only sparse hair that ran around his bald, spotted head. He had a long, snowy beard that ran down to his chest and a broad stomach. Tyrion had no doubt that the Grand Maester's beard hid his missing teeth, warts, and wrinkles. Pycelle wore a maester's chain consisting of two dozen heavy chains wound together to stretch from neck to breast. Its links consisted of brass, bronze, copper, iron, gold, lead, platinum, silver, steel, and tin, and the chain was decorated with amethysts, black pearls, emeralds, garnets, and of the grey robes worn by most maesters, Pycelle wore a red velvet robe with an ermine collar and golden fastenings. He stared at Tyrion with his sleepy eyes.

Varys was a plump, bald, and effeminate eunuch. He had soft white hands. Tyrion could smell the powders that Lord Varys used and he could identify the smells of lavender, lilacs, and rosewater. Varys was dressed in rich red silk and Tyrion could not help but feel a sense of mystery emancipating from the eunuch.

Petyr Baelish was a short man of slender build. He had sharp features, a small pointed beard on his chin, and dark hair with threads of grey running through it. He has laughing gray-green eyes like a cat.

Lord Janos Slynt was a stout man, with jowls and a bald pate. He was frog-faced and built like a keg. He wore ornate gold-and-black plate with a high-crested helm.

Tyrion noticed that the only person missing from the council was his brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, the Lord Commander of The Kingsguard. He felt a feeling of sadness wash over him as he thought about the only man who had been kind to him in his miserable life.

"Your Grace." Varys began. "My little birds tell me that Renly Baratheon is encamped at Bitterbridge, only a few weeks away from King's Landing."

Pycelle coughed. "We must prepare for a siege, Your Grace."

"I know that, Grand Maester." Tyrion could swear that his sister couldn't stand the presence of the filthy old man. "Lord Slynt, What of our forces?"

The bald frog turned to look at her. "We have three thousand men in the City Watch, two thousand men in your Lannister escort and another three thousand sellswords in Lord Tyrion's service, Your Grace."

"Not enough. Renly Baratheon has a hundred thousand men." Tyrion said.

Cersei looked at him. "Father always said that one soldier on the wall is worth ten soldiers beneath the wall."

" _Soldiers._ " Tyrion grinned at his sister. "Father also said that a watchmen is no soldier. No offense, Lord Slynt."

Lord Janos face turned red. "None taken, Imp."

"What of Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord Tyrion?" Pycelle asked him. "The Lannister army he commands consists of sixty thousand men which would give us a figting chance against the Baratheon and Tyrell forces."

"My father sits at Duskendale, guarding our north from the Starks and the Tullys. If he comes here, our north will be unguarded, which means that Robb Stark can join his forces to the Baratheons and put all our heads on spikes."

Pycelle gulped.

"With your permission, Your Grace, I could negotiate a deal with House Arryn and bring them to the fold." Littlefinger spoke up.

"The Knights of the Vale are one of the greatest fighting forces in Westeros." Tyrion admitted. "But Lysa Arryn is the sister of Catelyn Stark, and neither of them have any love for Lannisters." Tyrion still remembered the stench of his sky cell. "If the Arryns were to call their banners, they would most likely declare for Robb Stark."

"I grew up with Lysa Arryn, Lord Tyrion." Littlefinger spoke in soft, cold tones. "I even took her maidenhood. She will come around. All I need is your permission, Your Grace."

"You will leave at once, Lord Baelish." Cersei spoke with a note of finality. "But you must return with an army as soon as possible."

"As you wish, Your Grace." He bowed and left the room. Tyrion could not help but suspect that _Lord Baelish_ was upto something.

"What of Stannis Baratheon?" Pycelle asked Varys.

"My little birds in Dragonstone are silent. It seems that we know no more than Stannis has called his banners."

The silence at Dragonstone was disturbing.

"One more thing, Your Grace. Your cousin Cleos Frey has arrived at the city with a Stark escort." Pyelle said looking down.

Tyrion's heart started thudding in his ribcage. "What's the news."

"Peace terms." Pycelle pulled out a piece of paper from his long robes. "King Robb offers us peace if we return his sisters, his father's body, his family ancestral sword and grant him independence from the rule of the Iron Throne."

Tyrion began to laugh, much to the chagrin of his sister.


	20. Harrenhall

**Edmure Tully**

Edmure stared satisfactorily as all the banners flapped behind him. Twelve thousand rivermen stood behins him, flying the proud colors of the Riverlands. Tywin Lannister had finally made a blunder. He had left Harrenhall undefended in his rear.

Edmure had taken Stone Hedge, Saltpans, Darry, Pinkmaiden and Raventree from the Lannisters. Now he stood outside the last Lannister stronghold in the riverlands. He had no help from Jon Snow in this conquest, who was preparing the northern forces for an all out assault on the Westerlands. He had marched on the Crag, this morning, according to a raven received from Riverrun.

"Don't do this, Edmure." Cat had told him. "The Lannisters have twice as more men than you do."

Robb's bastard brother was even worse. "This is folly, Ser Edmure. You will lose a lot of men for no cause. Wait till King Robb gets the Baratheon-Tyrell forces and then we can rid the Lannisters for good."

He had marched anyway, not to be stopped by the bastard. The were wrong, Edmure decided. He had lost three men to every five that the Lannisters had lost. Not too bad, considering that the Lannisters had the Riverlands ringed in iron.

The castle before him, however, was a sight to despair. Harrenhal had five monstrous towers each one scraping the clouds off the sky and equally monstrous curtain walls. It was the largest castle that Ser Edmure had seen. However, much of Harrenhal had far gone into decay. Lady Sheila Whent uses only the lower thirds of two of the five towers, because of the lack of men, letting the rest go to ruin, and many places in the castle have not been entered in decades. At the top of the highest tower flew the Lannister banner, A gold lion, on a crimson field. Just below flew two other banners, a black manticore on a white field, beneath a crimson chief with three gold coins.

 _House Lorch,_ Edmure thought bitterly. _Lord Tywin had left Harrenhall with Amory fucking Lorch._

The other was the Black Goat of Qohor. _The Bloody Mummers._

Harrenhal could withstand a siege for over twenty years. Edmure knew that if he assaulted the walls, he would most definitely lose too many men. Harrenhall had only fallen once from the outside, and that was to dragonflame. Unluckily, Edmure was short of dragons. But he made up for it with some inside help.

"Sound the horns."

 _AROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO._

The sound rippled against the towers causing a thousand bats to flee the tops of the towers. A distant shout came as fighting sounds began to emacipate of the fortified castle. The men behind Edmure readied themselves for an assault of the castle.

A torch was thrown and Edmure saw the Lannister banner starting to burn.

 _There's our signal._

"CHARGE." Edmure screamed at the top of his lungs.

His charged with most of his men towards the Gates of Harrenhall. His reserve remained, commanded by Lord Jonos Bracken. As they closed in on the gates, Edmure could see the Brave Companions engaging the Lannister bowmen. A few unengaged Lannister longbowmen were able to muster a small volley of arrows, but it did no harm as Edmure and his men raised their shields.

Edmure was hundred feet away from the closed gates when he cursed himself. The bloody mummers hadn't opened the gates yet. He and his men were stuck outside, prey to pathetic volley after pathetic volley of Lannister bowmen. The battering ram had been left behind as Edmure thought it would only slow their charge. His men waited restlessly outside the gates as they heard the sounds of men dying inside the castle. Edmure had only two rope ladders with him. He spied an area where half the wall had collapsed and in reach of his rope ladders.

Edmure picked nine of his best men and himself to scale the walls and open the gatehouse: Brynden Blackwood, Ser Marq Piper, Patrek Mallister, Ser Aenys Frey, Ser Tytos Frey, Walder Rivers, Lord Lymond Goodbrook, Karl Vance and Ser Leslyn Haigh. He gave the rest of the men to the command of Tytos Blackwood.

Lymond Goodbrook threw up the ropes and on his third attempt, he managed to hook one of the battlements. Edmure was the first to begin climbing, holding his shield over his head with one hand and climbed with his other. He felt the Lannister arrows embedding themselves in his shield with repeated thuds. He heard a scream below him as he saw Ser Leslyn falling, an arrow stuck in his eye. Edmure and the nine men continued up nonetheless. Edmure peeked through his shield and saw the a companion in a brawl with two Lannister men-at-arms. The companion managed to drive his sword through one of the men-at-arms' throat but the second one cut his arm open and he collapsed with a loud groan. Edmure watched with dread as the Lannister used his sword to cut down one of the rope ladders. He watched as Ser Aenys, Lord Lymond, Walder Rivers, Marq Piper and Karl Vance collapse beside him. He tried to shut out there screams from his mind as he heard some of his childhood friends collapse to the floor.

The Lannister was about to cut the next rope ladder. Edmure knew that if this ladder was cut off as well this battle was good as lost. He dropped his shield and drew his dagger, throwing it in one liquid motion. The dagger whistled in the air as it embedded itself into the man's chest, who collapsed with a groan. Only four out of the ten men managed to make it to the top.

Edmure looked around and saw that the Bloody Mummers were actually losing the battle. He saw a squad of Lannister men climbing up the walls to engage them.

"To the gate." Edmure commanded.

Patrek, Brynden and Tytos all readied their shields as the first of the Lannister men came to meet them. A man dressed in brown leather with a brindled boar sewn into his chest charged Edmure. Edmure ducked to his right and spun, driving the sword into the man's heart. He died noisily gurgling as he collapsed to the floor. Edmure slashed the neck of another man and then pushed on, driving his blade into the throat of a Crakehall spearman. Edmure looked to see how his companions were doing. Brynden Blackwood had carved his way through two dozen Lannisters and was a fighting a column of Lorch pikemen. At his back was Patrek Mallister, who was effortlessly killing the Lannister levies. Edmure scanned the packed crowd for Ser Tytos and found him collapsed on the floor with a spear sticking out of his gut.

Edmure shoved a bowmen off the battlements as he made his way to the staircase. Brynden and Patrek followed closely behind. Edmure looked back and saw Lord Jason Mallister emerge from the rope ladder, followed by Mallister swordsmen dressed in indigo. The staircase was guarded by a long row of men-at-arms. Edmure hefted his sword as he charged a large man with a giant warhammer. The man swung the hammer and Edmure ducked, the hammer grazing the tops of his hair. Edmure swiped his sword at the man's belly, allowing his entrails to spill. Edmure waved his sword in a deadly arc as he moved towards the Gatehouse with Patrek and Brynden close behind. When they reached the gatehouse, it was protected by a line of 8 Lannister pikemen protected by their lion shields. Edmure looked to Patrek, who just shrugged.

Edmure charged and rammed the pikeman guarding the gate's shield, causing him to fall over and Edmure stabbed his chest. Patrek and Brynden followed his example, eliminating the Lannisters one-by-one. The three of them eventually made it inside and Brynden bolted the door with a large bar of wood.

"Father help us." Patrek cursed. Edmure turned around to see the gate opening mechanism. It was full of cogs and mechanisms that Edmure couldn't understand. Brynden Blackwood just shrugged and approached a large lever. He gave a large push but it did not budge. HE tried again. And again. And again untill the lever finally turned and finally every cog started moving.

"How the fuck did you know that?" Edmure asked.

"I was fostered here, my lord." Brynden spoke with a smile. "I used to fuck the gatekeeper's daughter."

When the three of them got outside, Tully men were everywhere. The remaining Lannister men didn't put up much of a fight. Most of them yielded, led by Ser Armory Lorch. They had managed to capture some Lannisters as well. Two boys, Tion Frey and Willem Lannister

Lord Hoster Blackwood approached Edmure as the men began clearing the dead bodies.

"By the grace of the gods, you did it." Lord Blackwood smiled. "You captured Harrenhall."


	21. Son Of The Kraken

**Theon Greyjoy**

Theon walked siently through the corridor. Tapestries of various different Freys hung on the walls, each of them accomplishing different tasks. One depicted the sire of House Frey looking over the construction of the Twins. Another depicted the 'Fool Frey' asking the hand of Rhaenyra Targaryen in marriage. But they all had one thing in common: potbellies and weaselly face.

 _The damn cowards._ Theon cursed mentally. Everywhere he turned, all he could see were their weasel faces. Lord Walder Frey had made Theon feel very welcome at the Twins, by frequently reminding him of his lord father's failed rebellions.

"What sort of stupid cunt will declare independence right after another cunt reunited the Seven Kingdoms?" Lord Walder was fond of saying, while fondling his young wife. The poor girl always looked so pale. Theon hated it in the Twins. It had been two weeks since he had arrived here, under orders from Robb Stark and he was beginning to lose his mind. But only one person here made his life at least a touch better.

Theon reached the room he was looking for. He opened the door silently and shut it behind him. His eyes went as big as the moon as the most wonderful sight he had ever seen stood in front of him.

Roslin Frey stood as naked as her nameday, her skin gleaming in the silver midnight moonlight. Sensual sweat glistened of her large round breasts. HEr hair hung untill her waist, a few strands licking her wonderful breasts. The sweet scent of jasmine enveloped her body, giving the bedchamber a sexual aroma. She smiled at him, revealing her perfect white teeth and stared at him with her shining green eyes.

 _If the gods truly exist, then this was surely their masterpiece_

"Theon." Roslin spoke in a rich tone. She began to walk slowly towards him. "I have been waiting for you."

For once in his life, Theon was at a loss for words while speaking with a woman. "M...my...lady..." He stammered. "We...can't...Not...again...Your lo...lord fath-"

Roslin placed a finger on his lips, shutting him up. She knelt in front of him and began to unlace his breeches.

"We cannot... my lady. We-Good gods." Theon felt her warm lips envelope his cock. He moaned softly as she bobbed her head up and down on, making him hard. She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him with her hips.

"I am going to ride you, my stallion."

When they were done, Theon rolled off the bed landing on his feet. He picked up his robes from the floor and began wearing them in a hurry.

"What is it, my love?" Roslin asked in a soft tone. Her eyelids were drooping, indicating to Theon that she was tired and wanted to sleep.

"I better get out of here, before your lord father finds me here."

"Lord Walder is either fucking his wife or fast asleep on her teats." Roslin said with a chuckle. She rubbed her eyes. "Surely, you can sleep here until first light."

"No, my lady." Theon said with a sad smile. "Even if your father is... indisposed... your brothers and cousins still roam the halls, even this late. It's better for your honor if they don't catch us together."

Roslin sighed softly. "Very Well. Until next time, my love." She stood up and softly kissed his forehead.

Theon bowed and left the bedchamber, silently shutting the door behind his back. He began walking slowly back to his chambers as silently as he could. He had just taken two steps when he heard a loud voice call his name.

"Theon."

 _Ser Stupid._ Theon had been the victim of the evil stares of Ser Hosteen Frey ever since Theon brought him back to the Twins under the orders of their King. Theon was glad that Hosteen Frey was blessed with a brain of a horse by the gods.

"Ser Hosteen." Theon said, turning around to face the Frey knight with a smile. He was dressed in full armor. Completely unusual behavior for a man at midnight, but then again, this was Ser Hosteen. Theon knew he couldn't judge him by normal standards

"What are you doing out of your room so late?" Frey asked.

"Taking a walk, good ser." Theon told, trying to remain composed. "Sleep is hard to come by when you don't have a featherbed to sleep on. What about you, Ser Hosteen? What are you doing up so late?"

"My father requests your prescense in his solar."

 _Well, Roslin was wrong._ Theon rolled his eyes. He was in no mood to deal with Lord Walder's snobby remarks. "Perhaps another time," Theon said as courteously as he could. "When the sun rises, maybe?"

Hosteen's hand went to the hilt of his sword. "Perhaps, I haven't made myself clear at all."

Theon's hands were tied. He knew that, even on his best day, he was no match for the brute strength of Hosteen Frey. Theon didn't have any weapons or armor on him, while Hosteen was armed to the tooth. So he had to play along to whatever this was. Theon nodded to Hosteen, who was visibly pleased that Theon hadn't put up a fight.

"Let me lead the way."

The walk was done in silence. Hosteen looked forward, not making any eye contact with Theon at all. All the Freys depicted on the potraits seemed to be staring at him. There was a feeling of dread in his guts. _This is not right._

They entered the hall. The large hearths were all lit. Most of Lord Walder's sons and grandsons who handn't gone south with Robb were here. All the same weaselly faces staring at him. Upon the high chair sat Walder Frey, senior. The old bastard sat on the chair as of it was a throne. He had a smug smirk on, which Theon knew boded ill for him. Theon stopped right before the steps to the elevated platform. Hosteen stopped behind nim

"Ahhh, our friend Greyjoy is here, heh, heh,heh." He spoke in his usual raspy voice, which echoed loudly against the silent hall.

"My lord." Theon bowed silently, biting back a witty response.

"Ahhh, Theon, my friend, you promised me that yer were not as stupid as yer old man, did you not?"

"Indeed, my lord." Theon said through gritted teeth.

"But it seems that, even after all these years, your father hasn't got any wiser."

Theon looked up in surprise. What had his father done this time? "I'm afraid I do not understand, my lord."

"Your uncle, Lord Victarion has taken Moat Cailin." Walder said with a drunken smile. "The Greyjoys have proven themselves treacherous once again."

Theon opened and shut his mouth. _Father would never do that, would he? WIth me as the Stark's hostage? He must have surely known that an act like this would cost me my life. No, he wouldn't do that. It does not seem like him at all._ But then again, he hadn't seen, much less spoken to his father in nearly a decade.

"You... You're lying."

Walder straightened himself in mock offense. "You dare question a Frey's honor, boy?" He signaled to one of his grandsons who went near Theon and began reading from a parchment in his hand.

" _The lords and ladies of Westeros deserve to know the truth, and for that sole reason, I write this letter. Moat Cailin and all it's nearby lands have been captured by the ironmen, lead by Lord Captain Victarion Greyjoy, and many northern castles will soon follow. For the lords and ladies of the riverlands who have sworn allegiance to Robb Stark, the selfproclaimed King In The North, this serves as a warning to you all. Turn your cloaks and swear alliegance to King Joffrey, First Of His Name, or else the ironborn will raid your castles. No quarter will be given. Your ladies will be raped and your children taken as thralls as they feast on your men's blood. To all the northern lords, you will be given peace if you denounce Robb Stark as your king. If you do not... you better pray to your tree gods for mercy as I will not show you any. Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Hand of the King."_

Theon looked aghastly at the seal of the letter in the boy's hand. The seal was that of the Hand of The King, proving that the letter came from the Lion Lord himself. _Lord Tywin Lannister never lies._

"Bold of him to say that, considering that he has lost every battle to the Young Wolf." Theon said woth a small chuckle. He was determined not to show weakness to this weasel of a man

"You're questioning my loyalty to our king, boy?" Walder asked stroking his chin. "You are no one to do that. As a matter of fact, it's your loyalty that I'm curious about, boy."

"What?!" Theon asked incredolously. _This weasel has no right to question me._ "I spent half my life in Winterfell with the Starks. Lord Eddard was like a second father t-"

"Second father." Walder said with a chuckle. "Who's your first?"

"Erm...It's...not..." Theon stammered as he searched for a response to that.

"I thought so."

"it's not like that..."

Walder raised his hand. "Take him to the dungeons." He said in a raspy voice. "And send a message to the Young Wolf telling that we have detained a Greyjoy."

Theon felt something hard hit the back of his head and he fell into the darkness.

 **A/N: Sorry for the late update guys, but I hav been dealing with a lot of stuff in my life and many of them have left me in a mental state unfit for writing creative fanfics. Anyway, I promise that I will try to update as soon as I can, but I can make no promises. I plan on doing the Robb meeting Renly chap soon, so stay tuned. And as always, please make sure to leave a review, as I always appreciate constructive critiscism. Thank you, and hope you have a great day :)**


	22. Farmer Boy

**Jerryk the Fastfoo** t

Jerryk sat on top of the tower silently. He could hear drunk men laughing and singing behind his back. Lord Tully had taken Harrenhal and everyone was celebrating this great victory. But Jerryk couldnq't join the revels, as with his ill fortune, Jerryk got stuck with guard duty.

The outside of the grim fortress was really silent. Jerryk stared at the dense. tall trees in the distance. It reminded him of home. It reminded him of his parents, his sisters Jesyra and Melysa and his beloved Janise.

Just a few years ago they had been leaving peacefully at the farm near Raventree Hall. Lord Blackwood was kind to him and his family, as long as they paid their taxes on time. And Jessyk's old man never failed to pay his due to his overlord. He had a satisfactory life back then, working in the farm during the day, and sleeping with Janise during the nights. But all that changed the day the Lannisters came there.

Jerryk wasn't home that night. He was drunk with his friends after a hard day of work. The Lannisters came like fucking animals. They burned his land and killed his father. They raped his wife, sisters and mother. Worst of all, they left their heads on pikes as if they were some sort of fucking decorations.

When he heard Lord Blackwood's call to arms, he was more than happy to join. When he joined up with Lord Tully's host, he dreamed of glory and a song written in his honor. Of how bravely he fought in revenge for his family, but there was no glory for the likes of him. Bards would rush to make songs of the Young Wolf, of how he fearlessly charged into battle for his family, but who would want to make a song of Jerryk the Fasfoot? Who would sing of his bravery? No, there was no glory for the likes of him. That was reserved for the lords and ladies of the high table.

Jerryk had put many Lannisters into the ground, most of them good men like him. He learnt a lesson only a man at war could. No matter how many Lannisters he killed, no matter how many lives he took, he had to live with this pain for the rest of gis life.

Jerryk wished he was drunk. It was the only time he didn't feel anything. He stared at the moon. He was alone now. Everyone he knew was dead. He tried to bury the pain but it refused to go away.

A sudden rustling sound caught his attention. He stared at the bushes where the sound came from. His eyes caught the dark outline of shadows moving in the background. He pulled his spear into his hand. They were under attack.

A swift whizzing sound reached his ear. Then he felt sharp pain in his throat. He looked down and saw a crossbow bolt embedded into hos throat. He tried to warn the others. He opened his mouth but no sound came. He collapsed to the floor as he stared into the distance. He saw the Lannister banner in the distance as his vision began to blur.

He knew what was coming but there was no way he could warn the men. He was dying. And no one would ever remember him.

 **A/N: It's been a while, folks. I can't promise that updates would be more frequent but I can tell you guys that I have already started working on the next chapter, which should be out by next week, if all goes according to plan...**

 **Anyways hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and please feel free to leave your thoughts and suggestions in the reviews section. Hope y'all have a great day!!!!!!**


	23. Lord Snow

**Jon Snow**

Jon stared at the tapestries on the walls. A knight in shining white armor crossed swords with a monstrous man in black armor whilst a battle raged around them. It looked like it came straight out of a song. Jon knew that whoever drew this definitely had never been in a fight his entire life.

A battlefield was never a glorious place. It reeked of shit. It reeked of men whose bowels loosen when they face death. The ugly sound of steel clashing and men dying was everywhere, crawling into your ears. There was no way to shut it out. Jon could still hear the screams of the dying men. Of the men he put to sleep forever. He had nothing against them, nor they him. It was merely a matter of being on the wrong side. That was the truth about war. There was nothing glorious about being a part of that. But the bards would never understand that.

Jon turned and continued on towards the the solar where Lord Hoster lay. It was the only part of Riverrun that he hadn't been to, because that was where Lady Catelyn spent most of her time. But this was no time to be petty. Robb had left him incharge and he was going to be the brave man that his father brought him up to be.

The solar was completely silent. A frail old man lay on the bed, facing the open skies. The chair next to him was empty. Jon looked where the old man face and his breath instantly left him.

It was a sight to behold. Lush green land spanned across the horizon with thick green trees peppering the landscape. The river danced in between the green and continued to the unknown. Jon understood why Lord Hoster wanted his bed here. The beauty and tranquility of the site was enough for a man to forget all his problems.

"What are you doing here, bastard?!" A loud, familiar sharp voice tore Jon away from the tranquility of the scenery.

He turned and lowered his gaze. "Lady Catelyn." He was a man now, one that has killed other men, and yet he still couldn't look her in the eye.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I have some disturbing news, my lady." Jon said in a soft tone.

"Out with it, bastard."

 _If I had a dragon for every time she called me bastard, I would be richer than the fucking Lannisters._ "Lord Brynden returned from Harrenhall, my lady."

"Then why isn't he here to tell me the news himself?!" Catelyn asked sharply.

Jon tried to keep his cool. "Because he left with all haste to inform the king about recent devolopments. The Lannisters have taken Harrenhall."

"What?!" Catelyn cried incredolously. "Any news of Edmure?"

"No word, my lady." Jon said in a soothing tone. "Ser Brynden believes that he was taken prisoner."

Jon thought it was foolish to go after a prize such as Harrenhall. Tywin Lannister wouldn't have left such a grand fortress behind for no reason. But because of Edmure's foolish actions, the Lannisters hold nearly every Lord of the Riverlands. But Jon dare not say any of this to Lady Catelyn. He was her brother after all. And her kidnapping of the Imp was what put them in this mess in the first place.

"Who led the assault?" Catelyn asked in a worried tone.

"Lord Tywin himself."

Catelyn went pale. "Seven have mrecy."

"That's not all." Jon continued. "The Greyjoys have taken Moat Cailin."

"Ser Wendel should be able to take care of that."

"I have no doubt on that account, my lady. But there has been rumors of an assault on Winterfell."

"WINTERFELL???!!!!" Catelyn nearly fainted. Jon felt the same when he heaed the news as well. "Bran and Rickon?!"

"No word as of yet." Jon looked at Catelyn Stark. Gone was the hard woman that was cruel to him. Now all he saw was a woman with a broken family. Her husband dead, her eldest son at war, her younger two sons missing, her two daughters prisoners, her brother captured and the only one to provide her company, other than her dying father, was the son her husband had with another woman. He felt sorry for her. He saw a single tear toll down her face.

"Don't worry about them, my lady." Jon said in a soothing tone. "They are Starks. They WILL survive."

Catelyn nodded as she wiped the tears from her face. "Any news from Robb?" Her voice was softer this time.

"I'm afraid not, my lady." Jon said slowly. "But we should hear from him, soon. He must be closing upon Bitterbridge now."

"What do we do now?!"

"We attack." Jon said with resolve.

"Have you lost your mind, Snow." Catelyn asked. "Harrenhall is nigh impregnable. Lord Tywin managed to get in because he caught Edmure by surprise. But no one has ever caught Lord Tywin by surprise."

Jon smiled. "I wasn't talking about Harrenhall. Ser Brynden's scouts are reporting that Ser Stafford Lannister is gathering another host at Oxcross. We hit there and make sure that we are not stuck in between two armies."

Catelyn stroked her chin thoughtfully. "But that would leave us undefended here. The Lannisters will be free to terrorize the Riverlands once again."

"Ser Brynden brought a thousand men back from Harrenhall." Jon said thoughtfully. "We can garrison Riverrun with them. I will take the rest of the men west."

"Who will you leave in command here?" Catelyn asked curiously.

"Galbart Glover." Jon said after much though. A loyal and cautios man.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow at first light that reduces the chance of Lord Tywin's scou-"

"LORD SNOW!!!!" A voice called from the yard.

"Excuse me, my lady." Jon said apologetically. Catelyn waved her hand dismissing him. Jon rushed outside where a tower sentry was calling him.

Jon ran across the halls of Riverrun as fast as he could. He dodged past a pair of knights as he continued to the guard towers. When he reached it, he saw that the men were on high alert, all of them aiming crossbows into the distance.

"What is it?!" Jon asked one of them.

"We spotted movement in the bushes, my lord." The sentry replied.

Jon exhaled calmly. He thought that something more serious was about to go down. "Then why did you call me?!"

"Herris here-" The man jutted his chin to the man next to him. "Swears that he saw a man in Lannister armor, my lord."

Jon looked to the other man. He was a young riverlander and Jon could clearly see that he was scared shitless.

" 'tis true, milord." The boy spoke in a high shrill tone. "I swear upon my mother's grave."

This was bad news. If there was a Lannister scout around here, he could easily tell Tywin Lannister when Jon and his men march West. He had to take care of this scout right now.

"Where did you spot him?! Jon asked.

"Few miles north, milord."

"You five, come with me." Jon said pointing to the knights who were cleaning their swords. "The rest of you stay here. And do not fire at him unless he does something to show his evil intent."

The crossbowmen looked confused. "As you wish, my lord." The leader said to him.

Jon and his party of six departed Rivverun with all haste, with Ghost following them intently. They rode north, trying to find the Lannister scout that young Herris spoke about.

"I can't wait to kill that fucking Lannister." One of the knights told the other. "And use his red cloak to wipe my ass.

 _Southron Lordlings._ Jon cursed silently. He raised his arm. They came to an abrupt stop. They could all hear the footsteps in the distance now. Jon signalled for all of them to dismount silently Jon drew his sword and moved slowly towards the noise. Ghost treaded silently near Jon. He froze as he saw the Lannister scout.

He was dressed in the normal gold and crimson armor with a Lannister helm covering his face. He had an ornate greatsword strapped to his back. But bine of this shocked Jon. In his arms was a tiny frail girl with hair an all to familiar shade of auburn.

"Sansa?!"

 **A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please make sure to leave your thoughts and suggestions in the reviews as the reviews are what motivate me to write. And feel free to PM me with whatever questions you might have. Have a great day, guys.**


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